Overheards

Scene: Casa de Parents (yup, still here). H & I dorkin' it up on our separate laptops as we sit side by side on a couch. My mother walks in with clean sheets.

My Mother: Where are the red sheets?

Me: Huh? Oh. I brought them down to the laundry room.

My mother: There were only two pillowcases. What happened to the sheets.

Me: Silence. Huh. Oh. (the longer I'm here the more my verbal skills decrease by sheer lack of routine and the ability to watch massive amounts of HGTV) We only used two pillowcases, not the sheets.

My mother: OK. (exits the room)

Me: (very late on the uptake) I ate them.

H: Well, you never know with you. You are married to a criminal after all.

Me: (Hugh sigh of anxiety and stress exudes from me)

H: Not funny yet?

Me: No.



Still want to puke. Want to curl up into a ball and wake up like Dorothy back in Kansas and not this strange Oz-like existence that has become the new year, CT and my life.