Shut Up It Is a Secret

This was accidentally written as a comment to my buddy, Line. Yes, THAT Line. The famous Line. The one who wins all the contests, and we all love Line, anyway, I do. And it's her birthday month! Come on, Muse. STICK to the subject. You know it's bad for us if they know what we know we don't want them to KNOW! Picture this: 2008. May 31st, weekend. I know because it was MY birthday weekend. I talked my pal, Sheila Kay into spending the weekend in Des Moines, Iowa, going hither and yon to every estate sale, antique mall, garage sale, and tent show set up by people selling whatevers. Heck yes! If there is anyone who will run all over the world to purchase a what-the-hell-is-this or a whatever it is me. My pal Sheila Kay would die if I told you, so tell away I will do. Sheila Kay, my BOSS at school, a PRINCIPAL, of the kids, but not me. Actually, she was one of the best principals I have ever seen because when a child did something they could run to me and hide in my clothes. Or they could be hunted down by Sheila Kay, and be lambasted, whereby their colors and paints and glitters were slapped out of their hands, and they lost their happy ha-ha faces too as they did not get to play in the office all day as a happy reward for BAD behavior toward their teacher, their class, or their God, which is what the last principal, Limbity Crimpity encouraged them to do. Which confused all of us. I needed a SHUT UP and DO THE RIGHT THING principal for the kids, because I don't have any of those qualities, right, Sheila K? So we worked WELL together and became BESTies. And it worked well with a We're-going-to-do-things-MY-way principal at our school, because believe it or not, some of the children needed a little discipline. Not my favorites, the ones hiding out in the lockers with me, or hiding in my clothes, but some of the others. Damn you, Muse. I hate you sometimes! Can we please stay on track here? The best part of working with Sheila K, is that she totally knew me, and knew if I stayed up all night I should either not come to school or be sent home. So here are Sheila K and I, loud and proud, snatching Hawaiian shirts out of wrinkly spotted old people's hands, in West Des Moines, Iowa. Which is WAY more uppity than Drake University Des Moines Iowa or Beaverdale Des Moines Iowa. Come on, Muse. I have stopped being nice now. To make the story APPROPRIATELY SHORT, we were kicked out of prissy West Des Moines, Iowa. We sneaked back in though. Three years later, we made a different garage sale circuit, another town, another state, and a woman came running out and grabbed Sheila Kay up in a bold, smothering little I-really-like-you bear hug. Then the woman, a stranger, said, "I remember you TWO." We did not remember her at first, then we realized she was one of 17 women I had latched onto during a garage sale moment, one of the many who had said, "I wish I could spend the whole day with you!" I remember urging her to close up and come, until I saw Sheila Kay''s Let's-Not-Do-That face. This remembering lady had moved houses, and states, and yet here we were, the big bad 3 of us, once again. So, of course, I suggested a slumber party!