Page 83 of You've Got Hate Mail
I flip the pancakes, then head fully into the living room instead of stopping with a cursory glance, where?—
“Oh my god, kitty,” I whisper-shriek.
Fluffy is stuck.
Stuck-stuck.
And not only is she stuck, but she’s stuck underneath the couch, and she’s coated in glitter.
Yes,glitter.
Green sparkly glitter that’s all over her, all over the wood part of the floor, all over the side of the couch, and all over the rug beneath the couch and coffee table.
It’s like a green garden fairy exploded in here.
Fluffy yowls at me from her wedged position beneath the couch, shakes her head, then tries to lick the glitter off the one paw that’s sticking out from under the couch, then tries to clean her tongue with her glittered paw.
“No, Fluffy,” I hiss as I dash to her.
Crap, crap, crap.
How do I do this without getting glittered myself?
She yowls again, louder, like she’s in pain.
“I’m trying to help you,” I whisper while her yowls get increasingly louder and more panicked and she throws glitter around while trying to shake it off herself. “Don’t eat the glitter. You’ll be pooping it out for months.”
I should get Heath.
I should get Heath to help.
But I donotwant to walk into the man’s bedroom.
I don’t want to see him sleeping.
I don’t want to know if he’s in the shower.
Mostly because of how much Idowant both of those things.
How does everyone at this placenothave a crush on him?
There aren’t really rules against it, but the vibe around here isdon’t cause drama.
Having a crush on the resident handyman?
That haspotential for dramawritten all over it.
Icannotcause problems with Heath.
I just can’t. Not worth the complications when things are finally evening out.
So I have to do this myself.
“It’s just glitter, Cricket,” I mutter to myself.
Hardly an emergency that warrants getting Heath.
But Fluffy’s in clear distress, yowling and shaking her head and batting her paw like she can throw the glitter off of it and trying to pull herself out from under the couch all at the same time, while occasionally stopping to push her tongue out over and over, similar to the way I do when I get peanut butter stuck on the roof of my mouth.
