Tell Me How Awesome I Am

"See, that's why I love you." The statement was made through a smile, on the tail-end of a laugh. "You're so awesome."

"Why?" My own laughter was beginning to slow, and I wiped away the tears the deep laughter had forced to my eyes.

"Why what?" He asked, pulling me into him and kissing my head. I smiled. I love that. Being silly, laughing until our sides ache, then being told that's why he loves me.

"Why do you think I'm awesome?" I nuzzled my face into the soft space where his shoulder meets his neck. I adjusted my body in bed so that I faced him, and wrapped my legs around him. When he offered laughter in lieu of an answer, I tensed my grip on him, put my mouth over his ear, and made a big show of asking. "Why do you think I'm awesome, baby?"

"You just are."

"That's not good enough," I threatened, my finger poised and ready to tickle.

He laughed without my having to touch him. "You just are. Everything."

"C'mon, baby, tell me." I whined, begged and laughed at the same time.

He feigned no recollection of our conversation. "Tell you what?" He asked, looking confused. The corners of his mouth smiled.

"Tell me how awesome I am!"

He laughed out loud. "That should be a title on your blog."

"Well, maybe it will be."

"Yeah, title one 'Tell Me How Awesome I Am' for me."

"I will."

And here it is. For my Billy.