"Ding-Dong."Trouble #1 is at the door.
"Hey, what's going on?" I ask.
"Nancy, may I borrow your markers?"
"What do you say?"
"Please."
"Okay, come on in. You know where they are."
He goes into the computer/exercise/book room and takes the box of markers off the desk top.
"What are you coloring?" I ask.
"Well, it's sort of like a tablecloth. Bye."
A table cloth? Usually it's dinosaurs or super hero coloring pages.
"What do you say?" I ask as he walks on past me and out the door.
"Thank-you."
"See you later, alligator."
"After while, crocodile," he says as he toodles on down the steps.
I can only hope that the "tablecloth" that got all marked up was just some artsy-craftsy placemat set to give to his mom on Mother's Day and wasn't some fine Irish linen from the family heirloom department. I don't even want to know.
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