They are NOT on my head


Stef’s son, Sam, arrived late yesterday with his girlfriend, Trish, whom we’d not met before. Clearly, we wanted to impress her with our tidiness and flair. So, we have cleaned and scrubbed like maniacs for the past week, sprucing up the whole place with new lamps, comforters, pillows, etc.Since parts of our house often look like a grenade just went off in a laundry basket (no names named here) you can understand that this has been an INTENSE process. Indeed, right up until Stef left to go pick them up at the airport in Eugene, we were up on ladders hanging baskets with gorgeous flowers tumbling out of them.

While ago, as I was sitting in here perusing Facebook, Stef stuck her head in the door and asked, “Did you really mean to leave your underpants there on the bed?”

I looked up, perplexed. “Oh!” I said, “I actually DIDN’T mean to do that.”

She cocked her head, like a puppy. “So, then, you just got distracted?” she asked.

“No, not really,” I replied. “I was in the process of putting them on when suddenly – and, for no apparent reason – I wandered off.”

She snorted and headed down the hallway.

“At least, they’re not on my head!” I shouted after her.

And, they are NOT on my head, although I’m not entirely sure why I’m wearing this cap right now. Oh well. JS


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *