That's what you say when a 67 year-old woman in a towel asks you out.
With Howard and his brood off to Disney World for five days, I was tasked with looking after his house; taking in the mail, the recycling bins; et al. At least there are no more fish for me to kill. After a good deal of yelling, they got under way yesterday afternoon. Ah, sweet silence. Despite Mrs. Sarcasm's prediction we'd still here them yelling from 200 miles away, we have not.
However, I did see some lights on inside their house last night and someone was watching telly. I also know that Howard's mother is in town for a month, but she's been staying at a motel because they didn't want her around. This begs the question: what kind of people complain that their kid's grandmother doesn't spend enough time with them, and then leave town when she's here?
Well, if you've been following this saga, you know. If your new here, might I suggest you read the shower groomer post.
At any rate, I thought it prudent to knock before entering Howard's home with his mail. It took a few minutes, and I heard some rattling around inside. Finally, she said my name through the door. Seems she'd just gotten out of the shower and couldn't unlock the front door. Not because she was naked, but because it requires a key on both sides. Not to worry, I said. I had mine.
Little did I realize she actually had just gotten out of the shower and stood there, dripping wet, clutching a towel to her old-lady parts.
Awkward a bit?
Just checking, I assured her. When I explained that Howard had asked me to look after things she rolled her eyes. The dog was home. They obviously knew she was too. I wasn't too sure, thinking they wouldn't want her in their home. I'm wondering now if I was set up.
Avoid the towel, I thought. Look at her eyes. Look at her eyes.
It was white.
Is that a cross around her neck?
THE EYES, damn you!
"I'm here for two weeks," she said. "We should get together. That would be fun."
Must. Go. Now.
"Good seeing you," she said.
Seeing. Good? Baaaddd.