make a wish
Last night Bob and I stopped by the new apartment at about 11 p.m. to check on the work that had been completed yesterday. All the lights were still on and we heard a light snoring coming from the back of the apartment. As we rounded the corner, there on the dining room floor lay our 24-year-old contractor sleeping next to a couple open paint cans, his head on his backpack, knees sticking up, as if he had just leaned back to shut his eyes and gone immediately into deep REM. We didn't dare wake him; he's been working his cute little 24-year-old tail off for us putting in 14-hours days. But I must admit that Bob and I were tempted each to take a leg and make a wish.
Instead we simply put the lids on the paint cans and went back to Brooklyn. I called him this morning to ask if he knew that he snores.
Instead we simply put the lids on the paint cans and went back to Brooklyn. I called him this morning to ask if he knew that he snores.
3 Comments:
I'll bet he was mortified, poor little dude.
That would have been a PERFECT pictue to put in a memory book of your move.
After what you told me he did today, I wish you'd have kicked him in the nuts.
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