i'm a lot like you were (matt and stella)

after dinner, after computer time, as they settled down into bed, matt and stella like to read. it seems to be thie only thing that takes the hyper out of stella, and matt is more than happy to lie next to his sweet one.

one night, he noticed a frown on his dear one's face. (ok, ok, i'll stop with the cutesy labels. he does think she's sweet. and dear. and adorable. and . . oh, i said i would stop. sorry.) he leaned his head over, and slightly bumped hers. she bumped back, and looked over his shoulder.

"whatcha reading?" she whispered into his ear.

"robert benchley. you?"

"cosmo."

"oh." matt straightened up a bit. " it's cosmo night?"

"no. this is an old one."

"oh. ok. i thought it was too early in the month."

"you thought right."

they smiled at each other. cosmo night was . . .ok, do i even have to go into it? when you get a new cosmopolitan magazine, you have to share it with your partner, don't you? there's the test at the end, and the "would i look good in this?" and "smell this, would ya?" as well as the "are you flexible enough for that?"

stuff like that.

anyway . .

stella sighed.

"what?"

"nothing."

"ok."

matt warily went back to his book.

stella sighed again. most emphatically.

"ok. what?"

"noooooottthhhing."

she looked up. he stared at her with the "get on with it" look. so, she showed him the article she was reading. 'how to live to be a hundred' it read.

"i used to think i'd only live to twenty one. then maybe twenty five. but, now it seems like, with all the preservatives, and the steroids, and all that . . we can live for forever."

matt smiled. stella was animated, tossing her hair and flashing her eyes. she didn't speak with the correct grammar he always tried to use, but she had more emotion in her voice than he ever had, which to him was a hundred years better.

"would you want to live to be a hundred?" she asked.

"i didn't used to."

she caught on almost immediately.

"reeeeally?"

"yes. really." it was hard for him to keep a straight face.

"when did you start wanting to live to be a hundred?" she wheedled.

"i don't know." he looked away, smiling.

"yes you dooooo."

"no, i don't. really."

"yes you doooooo."

"no. i really don't."

"yes you . . ."

"stella."

"yes?"

"stop talking to the dogs."

"hey!" she shoved at him with her shoulder. "my voice doesn't go that high!" she composed herself, solemn face, sparkling eyes.

"is this better?" her inner bullfrog said.

"ew! now there's a dick kill!"

"too barry white?"

matt leaned over, and glared at her.

"most decidedly." he intoned.

she kissed him lightly on the lips, and went on.

"so . . .when did you want to live to be a hundred?" she asked, in her 'perfectly feminine' voice.

"when my life became more worthwhile." it was his turn to whisper in her ear. "when i met you."

"ohh, maaaaaaaaatttt . . ."

"ok. ok. don't get so puddly."

"yes sir."

"you'd better read up on ben gay. you'll be using it soon enough."

"ew. thanks for the visual."

matt leaned over again, and kissed her hair.

"i love you, dearie."

stella laughed in surprise.

"i love you too . . .you old codger."