RING! RING! The phone rings like the Last Trumpet’s Sounding, causing me to nearly hit the ceiling, I jumped so high.
BLC: Aghh! (Gets out of bed, runs to phone.) Hello? (In sexy, groggy, froggy voice.)
Brother of BH: Hello, Miss BLC! How are you today?
BLC: Oh … hi … Brother-in-law.
BroBH: Did I wake you? I’m sorry! You go back to bed, and tell your lazy husband that I will be there at . . . 8:30.
BLC: OK, bye. (Hangs up phone. Crawls back into bed.)
BH: Why is he calling so early? It’s only 7!
BLC: He says he’ll be here at 8:30.
BH: Why is he coming over early? He said he’d come over at 9:30!
BLC: (Grumble, nestle under covers, grumble).
BH: Oh. We forgot to change the clocks. It’s 8, really, not 7.
BLC: Get out of bed. Go away. Let me sleep. Goddamn daylight savings. I hate your family.
Of course, I was up and out of bed by the time BroBH got here. Yes, I was still groaning like Lurch from The Addams Family, but I was out of bed, what more do you want? Groan. And now they’re off in my car, doing errands pertinent to their manly activities of fixing his car today, and I have to walk a whole mile in the 35F and sunny weather to go buy him eggs and milk and cold cuts. There’s no justice in the world, I tell you. None whatsoever. I’d better win the lotto today, or at least find a twenty on the street.