Loonarella and the Lost Slipper

Greetings Hairballers,

My friend, Maggie (not her real name) wins in the having the most bizarre houseguest category.

Loonarella and the Lost Slipper©

         FMHorner

a friend of my houseguest

coming to stay for two nights--

I’m flexible

how bad could it be?

yet I heard caching, caching

as her needs and restrictions

were dictated, in staccato tones,

oy vey

no bag of bagels for this woman

she ate no wheat

no dairy

no meat

fresh fish, of course,

was on her menu, she said

that I could pick it up

when I went to the store

she’d heard I was a gourmet cook,

oh why couldn’t I be like

Susan and Ferne, who cook by

pushing the start button on the microwave?

at last the visit was over--I had survived

by consuming gallons of

Fat Bastard chardonnay,

the only wine that seemed appropriate

we piled into my silver chariot,

airport bound,

with my friend in front,

and Loonerella and her gear in back

upon arrival, Loonerella started to shout

I can’t find my other shoe

we’re going to miss our plane,

where is my shoe?

off she hobbled into the terminal

wearing one 2 inch high heel,

the other foot bare,

pulling a suitcase and clutching a plant

dreaming of quiet and a bottle of wine,

I pulled into the driveway,

and there in the headlights,

a high-heeled shoe

if prince charming comes knocking

he’d better be delivering

a pizza or something

because I’m burying that shoe in the back yard

oh, and moving to France.

I’m not Maggie but have enough houseguest stories to keep the Gazette going for months.  It's been the winter of Florida.

Hairballs,

f