I wore a bright blue top into work today. A colleague wandered by and grinned at me.
“That shirt makes you look like Supergirl,” he pointed out. “All you need is the ‘S’ on the front.”
“Oh, thanks,” I replied. “Hey – if I’m Supergirl, I reckon you’re my Kryptonite.”
“Why’s that? Do I make you weak at the knees?”
“No. I just feel sick when I’m around you.”
I’m still chuckling at that, nine hours later.