Wake Up, Little Whitney, Wake Up!

My phone dings.  Incoming….Text.

From my young friend Whitney, who house and dog sits for us from time to time.

Timing?  9:59 p.m.

Whitney: Is there a silver external hard drive in my room there?

Janie: Hang tight I’ll drop everything and go look, doofus.

Whitney:  Lol. On the night stand thing or in that couch thing. (which is a chair and an ottoman.  She must be exhausted and everything is blurring in her mind.)

Janie:  Not that I can see.

Whitney:  Well, shoot. I can’t find it anywhere.

Whitney:  Found it!

Janie:  Amazing. Can I go back to sleep now?

Whitney:  I didn’t know you were sleeping! LOL thank you Mrs. Ma’am.

Janie:  I wasn’t!  I just wanted to mess with ya.

Whitney: Haha. Thanks, Janie.  I love you, too.

4:29 a.m.  (I know how to play this game.) (and I'm up to go to the gym, anyway.)

Janie texts back:  Love you, doll.

It's never boring around here.