Saturday, John was at work and so were the girls. It was just Henrietta and me, here in the house. I had been doing laundry and had clothes and towels piled on the couch in various stages of… fold. heh

I walked back into H’s room to put some things away in order to make more room to fold more in the vicious cycle of laundry that never ends. H looked at me for a moment and said, “Is he gone?”.

“Who?”

She doesn’t hear what I’m saying enough to understand and replies, “Yes, I know!”.

I repeatedly scream “Who? Who? WHO?”, and she finally gets it.

“Oh Krissa”, very exasperated, “I know you have a man in there!”

I was horrified. Not to mention worried about her eyesight, you should have seen the hot mess that was me that day… How she thought I was in any condition to get a man near me much less “entertain” one, is beyond me.

I immediately whipped her chair around and propelled her into the living room and gestured to the couch.

“I am in here doing YOUR laundry! There are no men here!”

As expected, I got the customary eye roll and a sarcastic “Oh, yes, yes, yes…”.

I took her back to her room and left her there.

Then, yesterday, Monday to be exact, I went into her room for something or another and she was feverishly working the rosary beads when she said, “Is your customer gone? That was fast?”

I am not even kidding.

I sat down on the side of the bed and turned her head toward me, (for some reason she has always had a problem with eye contact), and asked her repeatedly what kind of business she thought I had.

I was, of course, getting no where. I then wheeled her back into the living room and parked her in the spot she used to like to be in when she used to be less like a hermit and actually spend time with the family. I asked her again what she thought I was doing in here with a “customer”.

“Ooooh, Krissa! You know! You get that machine and hook the men up to it and it puts them to sleep.”

And now I’m thinking, Really? And what? Have my way with them? Rob them? Dance around naked? (fat chance)

I asked her what machine and she gestured to the two large chairs in the room. “Oh, you know! It’s over behind there!”

I quickly wheeled her over there and showed her it was, in fact, not there at all. And then explained that she was talking about the foot massager and it belonged to Keelan and it was in her room.

We discussed this for a few minutes and she grew weary of the debate and just said “OK.”, kind of in a “Whatever”, manner.

I told her she was going to stay in here for a while and she could watch and see there was no one coming in the house. But, no. She insisted she had to get back in her room and say a rosary. One for me, no doubt, to change my wicked ways.

I hope it works. *sigh*