Kitty's "coeur de la maison"
"Excelsior!" continued
Previous pageBright light on my eyelids! I awoke to the unmistakable smell of coffee, toasting bread and bacon. Governor Kitty’s spot beside me was empty. A few minutes and I was dressed and groomed.
Ow! I exclaimed. I found the source–a raw spot on my head. How did that happen?
As I frowned into the mirror I surveyed the bathroom. There was a cute little pink armoire opposite the pink coral colored bath and shower. On it was a large portrait in a large brass frame, face down on the white linen embroidered covering.
Turning it over was a picture of Mayor Putz. Not a picture; too big for just a portrait. It was an offering.
Not like a peace offering; after all, they had squabbled about the Mayor’s desire to raise taxes on The Rich (click here for "Who Pays?"). No. It was as people the world over do, to covet precious images. LOVE. This is her coeur de la maison.
Irritation got into me like seaside sand in a bathing suit. My joie d’ vive of morning vanished. I stalked into the kitchen nook and held that portrait out accusatorily.
Care to explain, Kitty?
She snatched it from me and clutched it to her. “That’s MINE!” she growled in sasquatch tones. “It’s NOT what you think.”
Oh, really? What am I thinking then? I pointed at her precious portrait and realized I was fully angry.
I was mad as hell!
She saw it.
“Oh, you men are so, so, so jealous, aren’t you?” pointing back at me reproachfully. But, a true woman, she placed the portrait behind her back onto the sink top, slowly, never looking away from my eyes once she had found them. She moved toward me, and I was in her arms, my anger melting like the butter she’d spread on the toast only moments before.
The coffee had cooled to just the right temperature, and eggs, butter, bacon and toast are what eggs, bacon and toast are: a metaphor for sunrise.
I yielded.
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Kitty: "It's not what you think!"
7.