Saturday, September 11, 2010

The Insanity on My Sleeve

So Trigger is back home for the weekend.

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.