Knock at the door, just now. Fancible Range Rover, without so much as a speck of mud in its heavy-tread tires, sitting in my driveway. I took Riley's collar in my hand and opened the door to find a somewhat roundish, friendly-looking, polite older man standing on my porch. Like his vehicle (and Paul's grandfather) he was very clean. His shirt bore the logo of a roofing company.
The Clean Man: "Do you know who owns the land behind your home?"
Indi: "I... really, you know, I have no idea. I mean. People do. Own it."
Riley, meanwhile, stuck her head out the door.
Riley: "OHAI. DID YOU BRING COOKIES?"
Indi: "But I don't know who they are."
The Clean Man: "Thank you. Didn't mean to disturb you."
Riley: "DID YOU KNOW WE HAVE A HAMSTER?"
Indi: "You know, there's the - the, uh - the county property appraiser, I think you can look it up on their website. And find out who owns it, if you're curious."
The Clean Man: "Thank you!"
Riley: "DID YOU BRING ME A HAMSTER? OR COOKIES?"
Indi: "If you find them, tell them to spray for mosquitoes? I beg you."
The Clean Man: *chuckle* "Sure thing. Bye now!"
Riley: "WHAT IS WITH PEOPLE COMING HERE AND NOT GIVING ME THINGS?"
I will now go back to my really cute movie about
evil bunnies.
One Eyed Jack: "WILL YE LOUSY ROUSTABOUTS PIPE DOWN? SOME OF US ARE TRYIN' TA SLEEP ON OUR HOARDS!"