You got the bushy eyebrows too?
The squirrel froze and looked at me bug-eyed. Then he flicked his tail twice and scampered up a near-by tree.
Oh. So that’s a tail you got, roof rat. You lucky rodent. Me, I am fresh out.
Uninspired, exhausted and running on fumes. I got the flat-line mind, I tell you. In West Texas, such a man might brag, “It feels like I been rode hard and put up wet.”
It seems like these four-day weekends take longer then ever to get over. Wife came and told me the game plan early Saturday morning: we will drop by her brother’s place for lunch after church Sunday.
I quickly took my second sip of java for the day, and then the other eye suddenly popped open. What did she just say? Was that informational overload somehow meant for me? Who are you talking about? Where does he live? What brother? When? And why? Wait a minute! Come back here!
Oh, man. Is this really necessary? Do we have to? Can’t we just go straight home so I can nap?
When I finally twirled my emptied cup in a tight circle, the last little drop remaining at the bottom made it almost half-way around the track. A distorted reflection of my face looked up at me looking back. A mug in a mug. Okay, I sadly relented. Fine. We will go. But only for a half-hour.
We stayed way too long. She totaled up the hours spent as we pulled into our driveway. Eight. No, eight and a half.
Who knew her brother would wisely have a few beers on-hand?