BUSTED!

Yep, The Mister and I got busted.   Exposed.  Caught.  Guilty. There’s a new blight on our reputation and one we may never live down.

It all happened one evening last week when the phone rang.   At 7:30 PM.   It was a Face-time call.  Not only that, it was call from family members and family members know better than to call after cocktails so we felt compelled to answer.  Clearly, a crisis was afoot.

The good news was that it wasn’t a crisis at all.  It was a lovely call asking us to check the front door for an Amazon delivery.   A gift of our treasured Godiva chocolates.   And a gift that would, tragically, melt in our summer heat, if we didn’t retrieve it. Quickly.

The bad news was that we were upstairs when that phone rang at 7:30 PM, in our jammies, tucked into bed, watching a thunderstorm roar in from the west, two cats hovered under the covers.  All four happy as clams.

There was clear surprise on the part of our callers to find us “retired for the evening” at such an early hour.  We defended ourselves as best we could.  Some tired old story about the foot needing extra rest and so forth.

I don’t think they bought it for a second it but no matter.  We brought the chocolates inside and did the only reasonable and sensible thing we could at that point. We grabbed a bottle of Kahlua from the liquor closet, swooped up the chocolates and went right back upstairs to that comfy bed.   Yum.

Busted, indeed.