Twenty-four hours after a phantom tractor infiltrated our beautiful neighborhood, I entered Don’s room with a ready-made breakfast and coffee. Sniffing the air, like a 4-legged domestic pet, Don looks straight at me.
Don: I smell the perfume of a female. Is it you?
Kristy: Not me, I didn’t use any. No one else in the house but us.
Don: I’m pretty sure it smells like yours.
Kristy: Maybe it’s the cats?
He threw his head back in laughter and started slapping his knee like he just heard the funniest joke in years.
Note to Self: OK, so did he remember the conversation from yesterday about the tractor, or is this just the funniest joke he’s heard in a long time?