I have a terrible confession to make: I stole some of my sister’s mail.

Along with her daily  ten pounds of boring stuff, including mail for her dead husband,  there are her catalogs. The Victoria’s Secret one came yesterday. I almost missed it, mixed in with the yoga, woman’s health, running,ats-and -crafty, and fancy women’s clothing catalogues.   

It was an honest mistake. The mailman and I joke about how much mail, especially catalogues, my sister gets. The mailman went to her husband’s funeral. He has manly muscular thighs that I admire, and a fine golden tan. Also a very elaborate mustache.

Everyone loves sis. The neighbors & the paperboys especially. And the mailman, that is for darned sure... She is the kind of sweet lady whom men look out for. She treats them as humans, chatting them up & getting to know their life histories while freely sharing her own. The testimonies from these helpful men about sister’s character don’t surprise me at all.

I tell her constantly, "You sure have alot of guys looking out for you."

She says, "Oh cmon Jimmy. They are just acquaintances."

"Well, but..you are an attractive woman, and a widow, and ..'

 "Thank you, but i am 63! Get realistic!"

"Yeah, well.."

"What are you saying?"

Fuck it: "You are a damn cutie pie. Face it!"

 "Don't be disgusting. I am in my sixties! I'm lucky i found G. at my age. It was a miracle!"

………………………………………………..

I missed the Vic’s Secret catalogue last night. I was otherwise engaged, tending to every whim and desire of her dog, my nephew, Georgie Puppie, whom it was my responsibility to babysit, along with her hanging plants.And her birds.

You know damn well I forgot to water those plants, and this morning they were suffocating from yesterday’s 95 degree heat. I performed panicked intensive care upon them, and a few hours later they decided to give life another shot. Crisis averted.

…………………………………………………………

I awoke this morning at 5:30 am to Georgie Puppy’s gentle head butting of my right ear . It was time to get up, and begin my final day of taking care of this precocious loveable canine nephew of mine. My initial joy of finally being rid of the onerous responsibility (by 1 p.m, sister promised) was quickly aborted when I realized I had to suffer through his morning ritual of maniacal energy and insidious troublemaking. I am not a morning person.

He is, though.

He is the epitome of a morning person. Like sister…

 I wanted to slip into my slippers to take him out for his pee and shit (forget about my own!), but he’d eaten my left slipper last night when I was on OS for a few precious moments away from my duty as his ‘entertainment director’. He gets pissed when he is ignored. He finds just the right thing to tear to pieces, or chomp on for a merry chase around sister’s house, when his immediate needs are disregarded. Slipper. The food packaging I’d forgotten to throw away, from last night’s feast of yummy chicken nuggets . Loaves of bread left on the counter.  My journal. Etc….

I went out in the dew and made sure he was evacuated of bladder & bowel, getting my feet wet, which I abhor. I gave him some food which lasted seventeen seconds in his bowl (while I turned on the tv for my news, and prayed that the coffee would brew just a bit faster). Forget reading the newspaper. He doesn’t abide that. I wrestled with him as he shoved at least half of his hundred doggy toys in my face, in my precious nerve rattled personal morning space.

I did see the big news of the day. Katie Holmes had finally come to her senses!

……………………………………………………………..

I am usually half naked  in these trying times of heat apocalypse for the Northeast, and this tends to…well…let's say , it makes a young man's mind run along certain channels...

My mind drifted to Katie Holmes, and what a darling I thought she was. Also, kind of talented.

…………………………………………………………..

Georgie was amok by the time I came back from taking a shower. Catalogs everywhere on the kitchen floor. And..this..

I’d actually never seen one of these before, honestly!

 I took it.

For later on…….

(God help me, and..forgive me? I mean, I did a great job with G puppy..and the plants lived....) 

…………………………………………………………………….

Now I am wondering if sis could use a nice green sports bra, for all her yoga, running, biking, and other outdoor stuff.

I am sure she could.

…………………………………………………………………….

So  now I got this vs catalog, and also the hooters calendar sister bought for me when we went to Hooter’s with the New Guy .My reward for taking care of G. Puppy.

I file them away in a far far corner of the room.

She gave me a 25 dollar gift certificate to Hooter’s for my birthday….I think next time , just New Guy and I will go. Leave sis at home.

……………………………………………

Georgie had been surfing os unbeknownst to me, as I was struggling to  read the paper…

He said, “Uncle, there is this open call. What is your last tweet, they ask?”

“do you even know what a tweet is, you beast?”

“No, not really. But you gotta get in on this…!”

“why?”

“Don’t you want to be popular and make your friends happy?”

“Yes, “ I admitted.

“So…?”

“My last tweet would be a quote from Blake.”

“OK, what?”

“ it is one of his proverbs from hell. It says, the ‘cut worm forgives the plow’ “ I said as I was packing.

“MMM. Are you ready for a walk?” he said, shutting off my computer! He takes liberties. He feels no shame about it, either…

“Yes, lets go.”

“Can it be an extra long one?” he asked.

“Why should it be, “ I inquired.

“Cuz I saw u steal mommy’s mail!”