Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Right Time, Wrong House
All days to clean house in my night gown. No make-up, wooly hair. you get the picture? I happen to look out the front door and my house was surrounded by policemen. Four squad cars to be exact. I spot one policeman standing back from the door looking that way as if he expects something or some one to come barreling out any minute. Oh mercy daze as a deceased friend of mine used to say. This could only happen to me. I grabbed a winter housecoat, the only one in sight and run out to see what this is all about. All the time I'm thinking someone came onto my porch and saw the snake and thought it was real and called the police. The birds have pecked at it until it is hanging down and only hanging on by the tail. I can just see that policeman drawing out his service revolver and shooting at that snake marring my porch. This is my house I say to him and he replies yes we have the wrong house. The four squad cars are up and down the street and finally stop at a house down the street.