By which I mean, that wicked streak of mine.
The scene: our bedroom, this morning, four of us getting up to things I'm not going to describe in detail. (Yes, that's teasing. I'm aware. Wicked streak, remember? Too fucking bad if you're dying to know more.)
In a moment of apparently genius-level playful goading as she was trying very hard to accomplish something (wouldn't you like to know exactly what?), I managed to make Hettie say, "Would you shut the hell up?"
If you knew Hettie even the tiniest bit -- I mean, just a speck above passing-her-on-the-street knowledge -- you'd realize what a badass feat that was.
She instantly went completely red and started babbling apologies until I broke up laughing and apologized back. Claire and MSG then had to take a moment unshrinking themselves from paralyzed hear-a-pin-drop discomfort to help me convince Het that I was the villain of the whole thing and she'd had every right to tongue-lash me into my place.
I don't think she really believed us right away ... but luckily she came really hard a few minutes later and all was forgiven.
