A Day In My Life

It is rare that I spend a weekend at my house. When I do, my parents bombard me with third-degree questions, "Have you a J2 broken up? Why are you here? Do you live here?"

For no particular reason I am here this weekend. Today, I pulled out all of the birthday and Christmas presents that I've purchased so far to take an inventory. I organized them, not by color, but by who they go to and the occasion. I do not know for how much longer I can get away with buying my baby nephews - okay not really babies, they will both be three within the next month so they are the babies of the family - the same birthday and Christmas gifts, but I am going to ride this train for as long as I can. As I am putting everything away I lay down on my bedroom floor. I crawl halfway underneath my bed for the best Christmas present hiding spot. Exactly as I did when a child cleaning my bedroom, I fall asleep. 

"Averill? Averill?" The Silver Fox's voice is shrill, "Where is she? Did she leave?"

"Averill?" Her voice gets louder and closer as she comes around my bed to see me face down on the floor. "Oh my God, Paul!" She calls Real Life Superman. "What's wrong? Are you okay Averill? Are you crying?" 

Groggily, I scoot out from underneath my bed, "No, I was taking a nap."

"Oh, okay. Do you want a pot pie?"