the boomeranger

the man of the house and his new houseguest are taking turns hitting the bong as i brew some coffee and defrost the blueberries that will go with my yogurt and crushed pecan morning creation.

"you workin'?" he says nonchalantly, noticing my fingers typing away on the keyboard.

"well, no...not today." pause. "i write, so, i pretend like i am getting paid."

"sure, just because you aren't getting paid doesn't mean that you aren't working."

(so true)

"...and just because you are getting paid doesn't mean you are working!" i offer back as he walks towards his corner of the couch.

nothing like some wisdom on a sunday morning.