Flying Fridays

Flying Fridays

FLYING FRIDAYS

“Well, we’re thrilled to be living with you. Now go and get into something cuddly and with elastic around the waist. You’ve got to be dealing with airplane bloat at this point.”

I loved this lady. Such a wise woman.

I floated into my bedroom and flopped down on my bed. I had saved the United States of America, like a hero or something. I wasn’t quite sure what I had saved it from, but I was confident I had prevented something evil from happening here. It felt good. Really good.

I was born to be a spy. It must be in my blood.

I’d have to ask mom if we had any known spies in our family line. Maybe Uncle Louis. He fit the profile – he could find a coin behind my ear whenever he’d visit us. Uncle Louis was an amazing man. Of course, everyone was amazing right now. I was on cloud nine.                                   

I went out to the kitchen and found Martha preparing – could it be – a turkey dinner! With no holidays in sight? In the middle of the year?

My favorite meal of all time. Unfortunately for me growing up, the only time a turkey was seen in our house was for Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Well, and occasionally for a funeral too. But never, ever on a regular night.

I must have looked like a little kid opening a present.

~ ALLERGIES OVER THE ATLANTIC ~

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