In the evening when I was busy writing, I heard a yowl that made me sit up and take notice. It wasn't one of his crazy TV show characters. It was him. I ran to see if he was OK, and there he was, the black shorts pulled up past his knees and stuck on his thighs like teenage Barbie trying to squeeze into ten-year-old Skipper's clothes. Okay, that's a bad image, but you know what I mean.
I doubled over laughing as he struggled to get into and then (not so quickly) out of my black shorts, which I had left on the dresser.
I know, it's not nice to laugh at old folks, but I can't help it.
Did you know that Chicken Soup for the Soul is seeking stories for the upcoming book, Home Sweet Home? Deadline in October or Nov, I think. Remember, the early bird, gets the worm! I just submitted. I hope you do, too.