And Here’s to You, Mrs. Robinson
(Because you really don't want to hear the boring details about me running around trying to pull together a party for the boyos, all the while seething inside about Current Family Events, I give you this little escapade from the 15th.)
Well, that was interesting.
So I ignored them when they yelled downstairs to come up RIGHT NOW.
But I finally wandered up when they insisted there was a man at the door, with a ball.
Sure enough, I looked out the window and saw an arm holding a tennis ball.
Turns out it was connected to someone.
I held the dog and both boyos back as I opened the door.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m one of your neighbors...”
*snort* Yeah. Uh-huh. Standard line.
“…and I want to talk to you about something.”
I studied him. Tall, thin, boyish smile, dark hair, blue eyes.
Never seen him before in my life.
“Well, I’m a student, and I’m trying to earn money to go to
Heard this one.
…and I was wondering if you’d like to come along.”
I stood there for a second, looking at my darling, yelling boyos, one dressed and one not because it was a battle I didn’t feel like waging that morning.
Then I put on my best Nancy Dancehall Demented MILF Smile ™
“Yes! Absolutely. I’ve been waiting for you. How many magazines do we need to sell to get there?”
Blink Blink. Smile.
“They’re books, actually…”
“Oh, that’s too bad. My husband owns a bookstore. I’ve got more than I need.”
“Sure! Any time!”
Wonder if it works on Mormons?