Knock, knock…who’s there?

Knock, knock…

Who’s there?

One dozen dignitaries.

Dignitaries who?

The one dozen dignitaries you have been saving all that crap for…we’ve come for it…all that stuff you have saved for 20 years in your nasty, cluttered, overflowing bathroom drawer.


Not sure what to do with myself this morning. I cleaned out the bathroom drawers over the weekend. My daily fun sport is over for awhile. You know the sport…rooting around in the drawer, pulling out first one thing and another, and thinking (before stuffing it back in and pulling out something else)…

“TARNATION! I have to clean out this drawer! Hmmm…what is this? 

OH, I can’t throw THAT away…I might need that on some vague distant day if a dozen dignitaries knock on my door and need odd-sized band aids, bottles of half-used hotel hand lotion, and multi-colored eye patches…better keep those…cram them back in for now….now, what the heck, was I looking for? Oh, yeah…[rustle around some more] OMG…what is this???”