"Pete! Look!" I exclaimed, prodding it with an index finger. "This is it. The beginning of the end."
Pete glanced up from his game of Bejeweled Blitz. "You are beautiful," he said solemnly. "In every single way."
I stopped prodding. "Oh," I said. "That's lovely."
"I mean it," he went on. "You are beautiful, no matter what they say. Words won't bring you down."
My eyes narrowed. "Are you quoting Christina Aguilera at me?"
"Oh, is that who it is?" said Pete innocently. "I thought it was Keats."
Could have been worse. Could have been James Blunt.