Petra arrived home, pissed off. Ballet rehearsals often upset her.
I hopped into the shower when I heard the garage door closing and Petra snapping at Mom, so that I could shower first.
When I came out of the bathroom, Petra was stretched out on her lavender carpet, glowering at me.
“How come you don't shower before I get back?" she said furiously. "Why do you wait until after I come home? You take forever!”
“Sorry,” I said. She was right. But I felt nice and clean.
“If you die, I get your Vitamix,” Piper said.
“I get your All-Clad skillets,” Akela replied.
“Doesn’t anyone want any of my stuff?” I asked.
“I’ll take your trash cans,” Piper said after a while.
I own a bunch of attractive Japanese trash cans made from ayous wood. One of them cost me $70.
“What about my laptop?”
“I’d prefer your trash cans.”
“Uh . . . I’ll . . . " She couldn’t think of anything.
For Christmas, I gave Mom several presents, including a set of artisan felted wool coasters. The set consisted of two mustard yellow coasters and two royal blue coasters, with an artsy silkscreened design on the top of each coaster.
After a few months, I noticed that Mom consistently used the blue coasters on the correct side and the yellow coasters turned over to wrong side.
"You don’t like the yellow coasters?" I asked her one day.
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