A growl of complaint from across the table woke Brighton from his daydream. He looked up to see Paige wiping her cell phone with a paper towel.
“I hate it when you get your screen greasy when you’re eating,” she fumed.
“I guess,” replied Brighton.
“It’s because the hand I use to eat is my phone hand,” she said.
“I don’t have that problem,” proclaimed Brighton.
“I trained myself to be phone-bidextrous. I eat with my right hand and use my phone with my left. Or, you could learn to eat with your left so your right hand’s free to use your phone,” explained Brighton.
“You made that up. There’s no such thing as phone-bi-whatever.”
Brighton smiled. “There wasn’t until I made it up. It works. Really.”
Paige thought for a moment, then followed Brighton’s advice. It only took a few minutes to get the hang of it. Brighton watched with a pleased expression on his face.
“Okay, it works,” she conceded. “But I’m not gonna call you a genius.”
“That’s okay,” replied Brighton. “True genius doesn’t need affirmation.”