Scott walks downstairs, after changing out of his "church clothes", to enjoy a stressless Sunday afternoon. I am leisurely doing the dishes and calculating several other chores that need completing.
Scott interupts my train of thought as he invades the kitchen. He is wearing his black dress socks, a mid-calf spa robe with a white tee shirt peeking out at the top and his hair is askew. He drags himself to the slider and yells at the dogs to "go outside and get a drink". It is somewhat disturbing that Scott is referring to a huge puddle left by a recent rain storm. It brings to mind Eddie in the "Vacation" movie series.
I fear we have become mature white trash.
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