I'm going to be a landlady again!
Yes, I know. Most people collect stamps. Coins. Cars even.
I collect people.
My only prerequisites are that you have to be ridiculously handsome. You have to like my random drive-by ambush-cuddles, twenty-four hours a day. You can't be afraid of monsters, angels, demons, fire or children. You have to know how to set a proper table, sleep with a cat (or dog or child or homesick boy) on your head and fold the laundry exactly how I like it. Instead of PJ's method which is organized mayhem. Stacks of it.
That's it.
Oh, and don't eat my cake. EVER.
Those are the rules as I present them, always.
Enthusiastic nods were the response to my lecture. We've got a deal. They move in May first, into Lochlan's old wing, which will see all of the easels and art supplies moved to August's old room over the rest of the month. They will be just in time for Bridget's Birthday celebration 2013.
Who's moving in? What?
The future Mr. and Mrs. Matt and Sam. Newly engaged since 6:46 this morning, or to those of us who are less inclined to be so specific, sunrise.
YAY! Also: More CAKE.
(I would have more words but when they told me my head exploded. And when they asked if they could take me up on my previous invitation of permanent lodgings, the rest of me followed my head and now I'm all just confetti and sugar and struck happily dumb, awash in endless sighs of how awesome this is.)
