See? There's always a person who's the reason for disclaimers....

(lawyers up)

Damn, Teppy. That request, to keep it literal, just kicked my legs out from under me. I don't keep those literal things in closets; they're in drawers.

Damn, Teppy. That request, to keep it literal, just kicked my legs out from under me.

But first I said that it can be uber-literal, or uber-metaphorical. Or anywhere in between. If you have stuff in a box, and it's in a drawer instead of a closet, by all means, go with that.

Hotay. See, in our house, if I put it in a closet, it's going to be doomed, because the cats will get to it.

Hotay. See, in our house, if I put it in a closet, it's going to be doomed, because the cats will get to it.

Heh. That fact alone would make for a funny, funny drabble. IJS.

t edit

I started it as a lark, but okay -- consider this a drabble from me. Man, I haven't written one in a long, LONG time!

* * * * * *

Salad Days

I wasn't trying to hide my old Prom corsages from my husband; I would have shown them to him so we could both get a laugh out of the dead flowers that meant everything to me as a 16-year-old.

The thing is, the corsages were in a shoebox in the hall closet, which is where the cats go when they're in the mood for adventure. The last I saw of my corsages was when Fang, the fat tabby, and Whappo, the Siamese, made a meal of the flowers from Prom 1985-1987, inclusive.

(snerk)

but....

That fact alone would make for a funny, funny drabble

Alas, what's in said boxes in my house, seriously not funny. Journals I'd forgotten I kept, from 1977 until 1982. AKA, landmines.

That fact alone would make for a funny, funny drabble

Alas, what's in said boxes in my house, seriously not funny. Journals I'd forgotten I kept, from 1977 until 1982. AKA, landmines.

Well, that's true. But if it were something fictionalized -- like the cats eating your Jimmy Choos but you kept them anyway out of sheer sentiment -- it could be funny. Or at least sweet, and not landmine-y.

Heh. I'm imagining Bree keeping half-gnawed Jimmy Choos and getting an incredulous look from Dom, for the lack of practicality in keeping unwearable Jimmy Choos.

t edit That was *not* me getting fanficcy with your characters -- it was just a one-shot image, because I associate Jimmy Choos with all things Kinkaid.

Well, considering she ruins a brand new pair of Jimmy Choos by slamming her stiletto heel into the back of a racist asshat who has a gun aimed at the back of Dom's head, in London Calling.....

I doubt Dom would bitch, much.

No, I'm imagining Dom being all practical, and "Why take up space in your closet with shoes you can't wear? Get some replacements!"