Good work, house.
Dec. 28th, 2008 02:00 pmI've finally met one of my neighbours, a girl of perhaps sixteen.
"What is that? Is that mistletoe?" she asked as I locked my door behind me.
Looking up at the rather large sprig I'd tied to my lamp, I told her, "No, it's boxwood."
"What's that?"
"It's a hedge. It's... another kind of plant."
"Oh. Not mistletoe?"
"Oh! Well, no, but if anyone cares to use it as such, then by all means."
"Good, because I have been all week."
"Ha! Excellent! Fabulous. Cheers." And with that, I was off.
Children have been kissing on my front steps! I'm most pleased.
"What is that? Is that mistletoe?" she asked as I locked my door behind me.
Looking up at the rather large sprig I'd tied to my lamp, I told her, "No, it's boxwood."
"What's that?"
"It's a hedge. It's... another kind of plant."
"Oh. Not mistletoe?"
"Oh! Well, no, but if anyone cares to use it as such, then by all means."
"Good, because I have been all week."
"Ha! Excellent! Fabulous. Cheers." And with that, I was off.
Children have been kissing on my front steps! I'm most pleased.