Oh, holy mother of pearl. It seems I have a knack for walking in on people with no clothes on.

About a year ago, there was a trend of me walking in on Candice in the basement with a beau. First I walked in on her on the couch, then the laundry table by the washing machines, then at the freaking workbench, and then in the storage crawlspace. Poor thing must’ve thought I had some kind of kink on or something.  Or she needed the sound of my startled scream as a vehicle for climax. Either way, it was Just Too Much. The last time I walked in on her I walked away, grabbed a bucket of water, threw it at them, and then yelled at them to use the room she paid rent on.  I’m a little ashamed about that, to be completely honest. On the other hand, she quit bringing boys to the basement after that.

Then a few months later, I walked in on Zoe and Derek on top of the washing machine. Well, she was on top of the washing machine, he was in front of it, balancing on a laundry basket or somesuch.  I had been racing down the stairs with a dress that Snowball (the largest of our cats) had thrown up on, and was busy panicking about getting to the slop sink and the stain stick, and didn’t notice until I was just about on top of them – how embarrassing!

Then I walked in on poor Gabs getting out of my shower just after she moved in.  Seems there was no oil in her tank yet, hence no hot water, and after painting her place, she was washing up in our shower. She said she told me she was in there, but if I was watching Serenity while sewing, all bets are off on whether I heard her tell me. I got up to go pee, and scared the daylights out of both of us. Girlish shrieking in two-part harmony, anyone?

And then there was this morning.

Skipper had the music on loud, no big deal. She always has the music on loud in the morning. Loud like I can hear it in my kitchen loud. And to be honest, I kinda look forward to finding out what’s on her a.m. playlist. So I’m in the kitchen this morning, trying to suck some coffee down, listening to Skipper’s happy morning music, when I hear the crash from above. Well, I felt it too – the fan fixture was jostled by the bump from above and it rained a little plaster dust. Which made me think something bad had happened up there. So I ran up and knocked on the screen door, yelling to Skipper, “Are you ok?” No answer. I yelled a couple more times to no answer, still knocking, and when she didn’t respond, I got scared, and walked in, and…

Hello, nekkid Skipper, lip synching at a wooden spoon.

She must’ve just gotten out of the shower, ‘cos there was a puddle at her feet. I stared at the puddle and asked if she was ok. She said, “uh-huh.” I stared at the puddle some more, frozen to the spot. I had no idea what to do for a whole minute. Then I think I asked her if she does that a lot, which is the dumbest thing in the whole world to ask. She had no answer except for, “Uh…” I mentioned that I had some coffee downstairs, and if she wanted, that I would share, and that it was pretty good coffee, and, um, yeh, you know, I’d be downstairs, and I was glad she was ok.

In a little while, we are going to have either a very silly, or very awkward coffee.