Twitchy

"What's wrong with your eye?" Libby asked, peering closely at my face.

"What do you mean, what's wrong with it?" I scowled.

"Your eye," Libby said, peering closer. I sighed, knowing what was coming.

"It's twitching."

"I know."

"Dude, it's going nuts."

"I know!"

"Why is it doing that?"

"I have no idea. It started this morning and didn't stop. I think I'm stressed out or not getting enough sleep."

"Do you feel stressed out?"

"No. But obviously my eye does." Libby laughed as my eye fluttered up and down.

"My mom thinks it's eye strain," I sighed. "I was reading without my glasses last night. I wanted to read for five minutes...and five minutes turned into forty five...."

"And twitch," Libby supplied helpfully.

"Twitching," I agreed.

"You know what the good thing is?" Libby said happily.

"What?" I sighed. "That all I need is an eye patch and parrot and a tendency to growl 'Arrrrr' at folks who pass by?"

"Well, that's one way to deal with it," Libby grinned. "But I was going to say that now you're officially crazy. You drool accidentally, babble, giggle to yourself, write stories about Ginourmous Lime Green Unusual Gnats...and now your eye is twitching. It's a sign, don't you think? You're officially crazy. "

I didn't say anything for a moment. I simply glared.

"You think this is funny, don't you Libby?"

"I sure do, Twitchy."