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Intruder alert.

I'm wrestling with my hair at the (aptly named) vanity while Lovin' Man relaxes just outside the door. We are having a grand and satisfying grumble over the State Of Things:
"Would you believe he told me..."
"What kind of person would..."
"Not ONE time did they..."
Like that.
Beautiful Daughter is occupied in the kiddie pool next door. Groggy Man Child is recuperating from a tonsillectomy. Everyone is out or indisposed.
A red curtain hangs to afford extra privacy just beyond our bedroom door. Suddenly and without warning, a tiny raven haired creature enters through red curtains. Dark eyes. A familiar shuffle. The small creature is an overwhelming presence. It is nonchalant while we are rendered speechless for the moments it takes to realize we have an intruder in the form of our next door neighbor's bitty daughter. She is determined and unassuming, her likely goal to reach the Barbie house in the adjacent room.
"What are you doing, little thing?", says Lovin' Man, simultaneously irritated and charmed. She answers daintily, "My mama said I could come inside."

She's a Three. Threes make stuff up.


  1. I wouldn't be so sure about that. The making up, I mean. If you're curious, ask me why.

  2. My Aunt had a regular visitor from a couple of houses down for years. Her parents would send her down to my Aunts, to swim, cook (My Aunt was to supply the ingredients) or just visit, so they could sleep in or ... insert whatever they wanted no children around for. It drove her mad, especially on Sundays when they were sleeping in and there'd be a splash outside her bedroom window where the pool was!

  3. This is hillarious!! Your blog is becoming a favorite of mine. I love good prose!
    (P.s found it through facebook stalking)


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