Dear C,
Forgive my nosey neighborliness, but who was that virile young man I saw toiling away in your front yard this am? At first, I must say, I mistook his broad shoulders and dogged stance for hubby’s, as I frequently see him doubled over and sweating as he tends to your lawn….but then it occurred to me this is Tuesday, which means hubby must has gone back to his double life as litigator extraordinaire and vanquisher of evil, which no doubt explains the cape, as well as the reason why he can’t possibly be expected to listen to all the mundane details of our petty lives.
Naturally, I was concerned that the young man in question might be about to embark on an unauthorized intrusion onto your property, which is why I headed over there, sharpish, on the pretext of bringing you a home-baked pie (OK, forget the ‘home’ part). Alas, you appear to have been otherwise engaged – or at least not answering the door – so I inquired of this veritable Adonis what he intended to do with the gigantic electric saw in his hand. Imagine my surprise when he claimed to be installing some kind of ‘invisible fence’ intended to electrocute your beloved pooch into staying on the property! I mean, really: a fence that you literally cannot see? Whatever will you Washington types fall for next?!
I must confess, it was on the tip of my tongue to demand of the young man whether he had ever actually set eyes on said canine, particularly since I had heard mutterings from you about getting the dog stuffed for Christmas after his last escape attempt. But then it occurred to me that you might, in fact, be playing a much deeper game.
Could it be that this so-called ‘fence’ is intended to deter any acts of straying on the part of hubby and cherubs, leaving you with the long-lost freedom to pursue the greatness that we both know is so rightfully ours? Or is it simply that you got tired of the view outside your shuttered windows, and felt it was time you traded the old gardener in for someone new?
Mum’s the word, dear C, but do tell.
Faithfully,
P.
