I know what you're thinking. . . Didn't that child leave for college just two short weeks ago???
Yes indeed my friends, it has been two short, but-oh-so-glorious, weeks. . .
Yet somehow, in her naivete, Trigger didn't realize that I was still reveling in the new-found cleanliness of her bedroom like a pig rolls in mud and so, consequently, had not quite grasped the fact that she might not be the most welcome of visitors. (Proof positive that I don't always wear my insanity on my sleeve people. . .)
And so, as she emerged from the car, I suggested that although Trigger herself was welcome to enter the house, her ginormous suitcase containing the vast array of clothing which was all-but-guaranteed to be spewed about her room within a matter of minutes, might be best left in the car.
Then Drip Dry quickly spit on my sleeve, pulled Trigger's suitcase from the trunk, and used a handtruck to lug it upstairs to her bedroom.
At which point I kissed Trigger hello.
And told her how glad I was to see her.
And quietly pulled her bedroom door closed.
Then climbed the stairs to Ponzi's room to roll in the cleanliness that still dwelled within.
