At any rate, I have never actually been to the other side of our closet-portal. I suppose it simply doesn't work when I go in all full of expectations. Murphy's law or karma or the grass is greener... Poop, I know there is some adage that fits here!
But my Clintman has been through the portal. If you ask him, he will most likely deny it. He's not really one for such nonsense. I'm the nerdy one in the family (as you may remember from my confessions). But I know he has been, because this very morning after we woke up, he got a head-start to the bathroom. I followed 2 seconds behind and poof! He was nowhere to be found. I looked in the closet, then into the shower, then behind the door. Gone.
Just as I was about to yell something witty to call him back from whence he escaped, there he was. Facing his side of the closet, eyes closed, swaying slightly. In a trance, possibly?
No. Clint had been to the other side of the closet portal. Only he was too tuckered out to even know it let alone enjoy it, poor guy.
Well, I was so relieved that I wasn't going crazy. (He hadn't disappeared afterall; he had simply been on a short trip to Closet Land.) All I could do was just give him a squeeze of joy and let him show himself to his side of the bathroom whilst I went about my closet routine of picking what to wear, in hopes that I might be aloud a brief trip (I know it's "allowed" but I wrote "aloud" first and decided to leave it because it was so gosh darn dumb).
But apparently I was too concious for that or something. Those magical closet snobs.
Well, someday I am sure I will forget all about the portal that is my closet. I will walk in unawares, place my hand on my favorite frilly frock, and BAM!
Closet Land.
Except it will have a way cooler name, and I will certainly open my eyes to a field of pink peonies.
How lovely.
P.S. "A watched pot never boils." THERE it is!
Mi piace moltissimo!
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