Of course, my too-tall roommate plays dirty and holds the card high enough to touching the ceiling. ”Gahhhh — Are you taller or am I shorter?”

“Y-You’re exactly the same as always.”

“And you’re still a bad liar!” I shout, grasping at her raised arm while she darts around the apartment. “Your gonna get tired at some point and — Hey! What’s with all those new tattoos on your shoulder?!”

“I’m not supposed’ta tell you!” she repeats, her one and only answer for my onslaught of forbidden questions. Or at least until she turned straight into the kitchen counter, soaking her blouse against my abandoned plate of syrup soaked pancakes.

Meanwhile, Biscuit has waddled over to join us in the living-room, probably for what he thinks is a game of keep-away for a special treat.