I gave you your first of a week of back massages last night. When I told you that I would do this, you gave me a look that I couldn’t figure out. Was it confusion? Suspicion? Incredulity? I’m not sure. But then you smiled and said you can’t wait. I did make a qualification, though—I told you I get to decide how short or long the massages are. You agreed to that, but I think I know why. Whenever I finish giving you a massage, you say, “That’s it?” and you give me this sort of pouty look. I can’t help but say, “No, it’s not,” and resume the massage. (I don’t think it’s manipulation, but honest disappointment.) So really, you’ll determine their length.