There's a reason God made him cute

My boss Charlie and I were talking about extrasensory perception (ESP) yesterday, and he got very excited about it.

"I have really good ESP," Charlie said. And he set about to prove it.

He wrote a word on a post-it note, then folded the note up so I couldn't see it. He told me to be open to receive it mentally, then scrunched up his face and thought about the word really hard.

And though I really really really wanted to get the word, I didn't. So when Charlie opened his eyes and asked, "Do you know the word?" I just shook my head.

"No," I told him, a little bit sadly. Inexplicably, he smiled, and opened the note to reveal his word:

We both cracked up over it. I couldn't wait to go home and show Mark.

Mark's reaction was similar to mine--he burst into a huge grin, and laughed.

"How did Charlie DO that?" he asked.

"He's magic," I answered.

Mark wanted a shot at it, too. I gave him the post-it notes and looked away while he wrote down the word. I thought we were replaying Charlie's trick, so when he told me he was thinking the word, I was ready.

"Do you know the word?" Mark asked, and I shook my head again.

"No," I said, and waited for him to smile. Instead, he frowned.

"Uh uh," he told me. "Guess again." He closed his eyes tightly and mentally re-sent me the word.

"Um..." I stalled. I thought of his favorite words. "Cheese?"

"No," he answered.

"Fail?"

"No." Little man was getting mad. "Think HARDER!"

"OK, OK," I growled. "Um...epic fail?"

He opened his eyes and rolled them at me.

"I give up," I said. "What's the word?"

He unfolded his post-it note. And there, clear as day, was the word "Pie."

"You don't get this joke, do you?" I asked.

"Yes, I do!" he answered. "I just really like pie."

I suddenly realized our ESP might never work because, in fact, we are on completely different wavelengths.

But Mark didn't care. He'd already slipped into a dreamy state where he was imagining endless plates of pie.