Moonshine

A few nights ago, there was a full moon, and, because our shades weren't drawn tightly, it was shining right through our window, directly onto Tiffany's face. I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and Tiffany rolled over, turning away from the light:

"It's blinding me," she groaned. "Can you close the shades?"

"Sure," I whispered.

But then I looked out the window. The moon was so beautiful. It was so bright, way up high, right between our apartment building and the apartment building next to us that we can practically touch. Instead of closing the shades, I padded over to get my phone.

"What are you doing?" Tiffany mumbled.

"Closing the shades," I whispered.

But I was lying. Instead, I opened the shades wider and took a picture of the moon. With my flash. The room lit up.

"Are you kidding me!" Tiffany yelled. "I have to be up at the *ss crack of dawn!"

"But it's beautiful!" I said, "how can you not want to look at it?"

"Oh my god, shut the shades!" she hissed, rolling over and burying her head under the comforter.

I felt self-satisfied, knowing I had the picture as proof of what she'd missed. But when we remembered the picture I'd taken the next night at dinner, Tiffany got the last laugh. It turns out the moon isn't very photogenic. At least not with an iPhone. It looks about as spectacular as the flash from my camera.