I was tired of seeing the fashion pics so heeeeeeeeere's Friendly (and no, he's not) . . . no doubt plotting something to keep me on my toes.
Which reminds me of an incident early in the Friendly Occupation of the Nash house. If you remember, I had quite a handful of kids born about 7 years apart and Friendly was a stray cat who "found" us and lured my husband into bringing him home by pretending to be "friendly." In that time there was never a dull moment, and for close to 12 years I cannot remember a single day when I was in our house completely alone--ever. So, on the very first day of my new-found independence, when my youngest was finally old enough to go to kindergarten, I decided to have a little "me" time and savor a long, long, long hot uninterrupted shower. No one banging on the door to ask me something very important like "Where's the milk?" or to tell me that someone was bleeding, or that someone was cleaning the toilet with my toothbrush. I almost felt guilty. . . almost. As I was just finishing the luxury of actually completing the "repeat" part of the lather, rinse, repeat cycle of my shampooing (something I can't say I was able to do very much for those 12 years prior), I opened my eyes to see the shower curtain suddenly begin throbbing toward me reminiscent of the shower scene from the Hitchcock thriller Pyscho. Imagine water and shampoo and arms and legs and slipping and sliding and my heart skipping about 18 beats as I screamed. I cannot tell you all the thoughts that flashed through my mind, but when I was finally able check to see if I was still alive, and carefully peek outside the curtain-- there sat Friendly in all his smugness, something like the picture above. Somehow in all the hustle and bustle of getting four kids and one husband dressed and out the door on the first day of school, he'd sneaked into the house and decided to keep me "company."
Very big of him.