Katie sits in the front seat (to forfend the roving parking cops and their vicious tickets) while Bert and I wrestle the love seat into the back of the car. It almost fits, but the overstuffed arms, always a point of contention in our home, are getting in their last licks by simply being a couple of inches too stubborn to get the hatchback closed.
I finally manage to tie the door down, and Bert stands up and brushes off his hands on his pants legs.
"Cheers, man," he says with a smile, and shakes my hand, just as it starts to snow.
No comments:
Post a Comment