More CB

More with CB

I had moved from an apartment that was advertised as a “town house”. That was trickery on me at its finest. I should have known due to the location that it was a play on words. I moved to a trailer house (I have zero shame in my game), that was not far (distance wise) from the luxurious (anything but) town house. The trailer house needed new carpet. I am not sure as to why of all colors to choose from,  I chose white. White carpet when it was just me was not an issue. I should also state that said trailer house was on a State Road with neighbors. CB would come home covered in who knows what. I already felt as if I was spending my life keeping my white carpet white. To prevent CB from making a mess with his work clothes, we put clothes hampers on the covered deck so that he could take his dirty clothes off before coming in. More often than not, around the time he would get home from work, I would be trying to get some studying in before I went to work. He would unlock the door, set his dinner bucket down at the tiled entry way and place his keys and wallet on top of the dinner bucket. He would always greet me cheerful as ever, before pulling the door closed. He would proceed to take his dirty clothes off on the covered deck and put them in the hampers. CB was never in a bad mood; he always smiles and typically singing. He would be singing the entire time he was taking care of his dirty work clothes. As soon as he would pull that door closed, I would hurry and run (thank goodness it was a trailer house and not a far run, I was chubby then too) to the door and lock it on him. He would have no clue until he was down to his underwear and sling shot shirt. I found a lot of humor in this. I would be laughing hysterically, as he would be outside knocking on the door. He would say babe lemme in, come on now, aww shit a car is coming, lemme in. I would be laughing so hard. It is a good thing he is good natured. Come on now people seeing me like this, lemme in this shit isn’t funny anymore. This happened every day that he came home from work when I was home. You would have thought that he would have learned after the first few times. It never got old for me; I laughed every single time. I think the funniest incident was his state of panic when the neighbor across the street, with a direct line of sight to CB, in his underclothes, walked out to get the mail. I pretended to have trouble unlocking the door. I tried to tell him she would have never noticed him had he not been beating on the door and yelling like a fool. Every single time, after I let him inside, he would always tell me I play too much. I can promise it never got old for me. Stay warm, Toodle-loo