Any Sunday – Just Not This One

Our winter-time neighbor, Fletch, wandered over the last Thursday in April to let us know he’d be heading back to Michigan on Saturday or Sunday – depending on the weather and if his carpets had dried from the ‘deep’ cleaning they’d gotten the day before.  I’m not sure why having dry carpets should be a determining factor in his travel planning since he keeps the house closed up as tight as a coffin all the time anyway, but somehow it did.  We said our goodbyes and promised to stay in touch via email.

At breakfast on Sunday, Mom commented to Bill, “It looks like Fletch finally left.”

“Why do you think he’s gone?” he asked.

“Well his blinds are closed and they were opened yesterday,” she replied.

“Pretty observant, Mom,” Bill said.  “That’s what he said he was going to do, so I guess he’s right on schedule.”

“He is?” she asked.  “I thought he said he was leaving Saturday or Sunday?”

“Today is Sunday,” he said.

“Oh.  Well I just thought he’d leave on a different day.”

“What, like next Saturday or Sunday?” he asked.

“No, not necessarily.  Just some other Saturday or Sunday.”


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