I had a few small jobs for a plumber today, and he showed up around noon. I jokingly commented on Facebook about Maddie’s prior exchange with a plumber in which she recommended he pull up his pants. “I hope she just stays in her room this time,” I quipped.
How prophetic!
Also: my bad! I failed to mention he was coming. So when Brian the plumber went to the appropriate bathroom for repairs, he pointed at the door and said, “This one? It’s occupied.”
And out walked Maddie. In a semi-long tee shirt. And presumably some underwear. And that is all.
She stopped in the hall. “Who’s that dude?” she asked. We were about three feet from the dude in question.
“The plumber,” I answered, placing my hand on her back with a little pressure to encourage her to return to her room. “Uh, can you go in there? You don’t have any pants on.”
“Well, he doesn’t know that.”
“I’m pretty sure he can tell.”
The ironic twist of the plumber returning: His pants were up and belted and his shirt tucked securely into his pants.
And she wasn’t wearing any pants at all.
The Year of Living Hopefully 