Before I begin: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MFF (My Favorite Fan). I hope you stay young forever!
They descended upon my humble abode, like locus; swarming if you will, ready to make comment.
Coming down to greet each, as is wise, (we don’t want to alienate three of them!) I paid my respects and tried a hasty retreat in each case. But oh, it was not to be.
They had gathered, or rather amassed shall we say: perched ready to hound me down, and one in particular had fire in her eyes? This would not be pretty.
My crime? I described her driving in my blogue. But the sisterhood would defend her, and I would die if I did not give them the clues to answering in the comment box.
Under great trepidation, I struggled with the laptop, my hands shaking at the prospects of the heavens opening and the ground below me swallowing me into its depths. The gloom was thick; I could almost cut it with one of their sharp tongues, as DelBloggolo suddenly appeared on the computer. Frightened, I rushed through the procedure of the comment.
Pat, The Princess of Foxwoods Points explained: “I had to respond to your describing my driving as playing chicken and hair pin turns, after all, I was practicing for the Indianapolis 500!”
And here I thought it was the demolition derby!
With that, the sisterhood departed to shop.
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