I Can’t Get No-oh … Kitchen Table

The kitchen table had already looked like this for two days when I left for a greener pasture.


Tax time for Scott’s businesses.

A friend had asked me to stay at her house with her bloodhound for a couple days out in the country, and I said I would. It worked out perfectly. Scott could leave our kitchen table this way for another 48 hours and I would not grind my teeth to stumps until he got his papers organized and out of the way.


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