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
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.