Miles employed one of his favorite words with me this evening as he was sitting at his table eating and I stepped over to him.
“Move.”
I shrugged and looked around. “Where should I go?”
Miles, chewing his food, grunted and pointed towards my bedroom.
“You want me to go into the bedroom?” I asked.
Miles nodded.
“What?!” I asked. The tone in my voice was one of mock-incredulity, although I was honestly a little confused.
Tired of my inability to follow his instructions, Miles got up from the table and pointed at the room. He reached up and took my hand, led across the house and into the bedroom, then released my hand and walked away, leaving me in the dark. “Bye-bye,” he said without looking back.
