Agog

Me:  "Morning, Frankie."
Frankie:  "Mumble, mumble, mumble."
Me:  "Ya know, Frankie, when I first met you I was agog."
Frankie:  (Arms akimbo) "What the heck does that mean?  Should I be offended?"
Me:  "Look it up in the 'big book'."  (What we call the dictionary in my house.)
Frankie:  "Mumble, mumble, mumble."

I continue working as she is flipping pages in the 'big book'.  I smile, cause I love getting her in a state early in the morning.

Frankie:  "Oh, I guess I'm not offended, exactly what got you 'agog' about me?"
Me:  "Your free, youthful spirit, your never being afraid to try something new, your not caring about what other people think, the fact you can eat, and eat, and eat and never gain an ounce...wait, I actually HATE that."
Frankie:  (Laughing her head off.)  "I get agog over good stuff," she gasps,"like lightening, Christmas, summer heat, ya know...good stuff.  Like, watching the step disappear at the top of an escalator...Where the heck does it go, anyway?"

Me:  "I don't know, actually that's a very good question?"

Frankie saunters off for her morning cup of coffee, while I get back to typing.

Frankie returns.  "What's agogo?"
Me:  "A place where young people used to go to dance in the '70's' and do all kinds of body gyrations."
Frankie:  "No it's not."
Me:  "Yes, it is."
Frankie:  "Not according to the 'big book'."  (The final authority on such matters.)  "Look it up"...she says, turning on heel leaving the room.

I hate when she does that.  And, I make up my mind I will NOT look it up.

Silence, muttering, lack of concentration....more muttering.

Dang it!  I try to silently roll my office chair back to sneak a peek at the dictionary.

Frankie jumps back into the room..."Got ya," she says with great satisfaction.  "I knew you wouldn't be able stand not knowing what agogo is."  She does a GoGo dance as she leaves the room.

Oh, if you want to know what agogo is...look it up in your big book, cause, we're not going to tell you.