Did I mention the troll in my den? Well, the den might be a living room, but it's definitely a troll -- you can ask him yourself or spot him online in various digital incarnations. He was there when the thought crash landed... though I'm not sure if either of us remembers it all that well.

The coatrack will benefit us both, however. Swiping my sweaters as he goes out to find bridges to hide under (or whatever trolls do) won't be acceptable, but his sweater should fit as well. Maybe he has a mom willing to search for sweaters too.

Thing is, if he's headed for bridges to hide under (and I know just the place), I'd recommend a coat. If I wasn't such a packrat, there might be room for him in the inn, but as it stands, the most room to be had is in the den. Despite the cats.

But did I mention the bean bag chair? I think they left that part out of the scary children's books -- how trolls really love bean bag chairs. It's true.

All things considered, swiping my sweaters doesn't really matter anyway. I'll already have one on if such a thing is necessary, no doubt. The coatrack will be generous in its dispensation of sweaters.

Flannel shirts too.

In fact, the thing will probably look ridiculous. I'll wind up hanging my pants and shoes on it as well. Just spares, mind you, since I dress for work in my bedroom, but that will make perfect sense come summer.

It's hot and I'm experimenting with frugality, so I leave the thermostat set ridiculously high, like 103. My uniform for the daylight time spent around the house consists of some boxer shorts and some flip flops.

Just kidding on the flip flops, but when I look up and it's late afternoon I think to myself... "Mailbox might have stuff in it."

So I stroll to the coatrack and I grab a handy pair of pants.

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