Random Esquire

Boss came home last night from visiting her mom. Did I mention that I was alone all weekend? I was. It left much to be desired. Anyway, suffice to say that I did not, in fact, eat steak every night and that mere fact by itself I offer as proof that when left to my own devices, I am exactly as mundane as my typical self.

I’m kidding. I am a rock star.

So Boss came home last night. I met her down by her car to help carry things inside. She stepped out of her car wearing a great new pair of black pants. I said, “New pants?” She said, “Mmhmm.” Then I noticed the shirt. “New shirt?” She nodded. I glanced down at her shoes. Boots. Black, leather boots. My eyebrows went up. Attorney like. I said, “Are those new boots?” She ignored me. I said, “New boots, new boots?” She pulled up a pant leg and I saw the silver accents up the boot and I smiled. I smiled. Dirty thoughts flooded my brain.

She said, “They’re my mom’s.”

I screamed the entire way inside.