Revenge of Mothra

I had to ask Bill something and was looking all over the house for him.  I looked in the Arizona room, the living room, the kitchen, the office, our bedroom, our bathroom and the sun porch.  No Bill.  I went outside to look in the garage and then walked around the entire perimeter of the house.  No Bill.  I went back into the house and down the hall to see if his cell phone was gone from his dresser because then I could call him to find out where he’d disappeared to, but I bumped into him as he was coming out of Mom’s bedroom.

“There you are!” I exclaimed.  “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Well, here I am,” he said, non-pulsed by my enthusiastic greeting.  “What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you something, but now I forget what,” I said.  “Why were you in Mom’s room?  You never go in there except to vacuum.”

“She claimed her TV didn’t work so I had to take a look at it.  It was fine,” he said.

“Did you figure out what she was doing wrong?”

“Yup.  She was using the remote for the number bed instead of the satellite remote – again.”

I nodded knowingly since this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

“By the way,” he said as we walked into the office, “there was a moth in her room.”

“Did you catch it?” I asked, sitting down in front of my computer.

“Nope, I tried, but it flew into her closet.”

“Oooh, the Tomb!  Did you lose it inside her 60-year-old wardrobe collection?”

“Pretty much.  So I just closed the door and crossed my fingers,” he said, turning on his PC.  “I’m hoping it’ll eat its way through the sixties and seventies by Halloween!”


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