I’d not done many things I had said I might do on her last visit. Mostly I suppose I stated that I might clean out the dormer room so she could clean it. She’s been after me for years to get up there and separate out the “good stuff” from the “bad stuff” and she would get up there with her tools.
Now, that room up there, as I told her, contains the papers from half my life and some of the stuff laying about is as old as forever, and, well, hell, I treat it like an attic.
We discussed some of my short comings standing at the foot of the stairs, neither of us making an effort to look up there. Then we changed the conversation.
It appeared that she wanted to talk about taking her cat to the vet to be neutered, then she was off on men in general, and described to me several methods of castration – along with the contention that castration was the best way of taming the beastly male.
Perhaps I did check to be sure I was whole after she left. If not check I did have to pee and while I was at it I scratched. Everything was fine.
I did accuse her of enjoying her poor cats trip to the vet, and she said she would. Maybe, she said, he would stop biting at her neck then.
Housekeeper, Housekeeper. I think you need to attack Hubby. She said he’d hurt his knee; and that she’d told him she didn’t want him shopping with her for her new jeans.
She thrust a dust pan with a dead mouse in it saying my rat poison was working, and that none of her jeans fit right anymore – they were getting too tight.
As she was leaving, I asked her how old she was and she pretended to not hear me.
Is ignoring the pay master a fireable offense, or does it only count if it occurs before the check is cut? Um,, that was a bad choice of words.
From the reaches,