Catching up this morning, I am reminded of the fixer-upper house I lived in in Austin, many years ago. It has slipped on the foundation and there was a gap at the wall/floor on one side, apparently of great interest to the local wildlife. The BF of the time and I pretty much lived at the kitchen table while we slowly worked on the house. One afternoon I was sitting in the kitchen, catching up on the reading, Tom was taking a nap in the bedroom down the hall.
From the living room, which wasn't liveable yet, in ambled a teen opossum. Oooooookay. Hmmm.... it wandered about sniffing all those good kitchen smells, came over, climbed my leg, looked around all over me. I was more bemused than anything, but did start thinking OK buddy, you probably need to leave now.
I started softly and sweetly calling Tom, to wake him up. Toooommmm.... oh Tommmmm..... hello Tommmmm.... I hear him start harumphing a bit. He finally says WHAT? Softly and quietly I sing-song there's a possum in the kitchennnnnn deeeeearrrrr, it's on my laaaaappppp............. dead silence. Thump.
We did finally get the possum out the back door, but it was comical - big guy with a broom, trying to shoo a little possum out the door. I would have helped him, but I was busy giggling my butt off!
