Dear Boyfriend's Parent's House,

Somehow I feel guilty hooking it in you when I look up from atop my straddled legs to see... a yarn stitched tissue box, a robin hood poster, and countless tiny trophies.

Also, it doesn't help that mom's down the hall and doesn't believe in locks on doors. WHAT DOES HELP... is her hearing impairment.

Love,
A

P.S. You are the sweetest country Kentucky home I've ever seen and I love you so much. There are chachkees (?), gizmos, relics, and folk art in like every niche and I'm going to have fun exploring you today when they're gone :)

2 comments:

Hez said...

Ahhh, "tchotchkes"... a word I love.

Even better, my English relatives refer to all that stuff by the generic term "tat".

Also, comme je suis jaloux!!! Don't forget to check the 'rents medicine cabinet first... a/k/a The Chamber of SEEEE-CRETS! Write down all the good prescriptions and Google them later to find out what kind of crazy pills they are taking!

Anonymous said...

You just made my day