Housesitting

I've spent the last week housesitting for my pseudo parents, Nate and Amanda. They weren't supposed to come home until tonight - which left me this morning to clean up after myself.

Until they texted me yesterday afternoon saying they came home early.

Umm. Oh crap.

The instant thought that rushed through my head was

• the week's worth of dirty dishes in the sink
• the assortment of clothes left in their bedroom (so the Satan dog wouldn't eat them)
• the explosion of teenage girl in the bathroom
• whatever else I've left out around the house

Can I say enough apologies to save myself from too much embarrassment?

But instead of being angry that their cozy home looked more like a college dorm, they brought me dinner. I came home to money on the table for watching the dog. I walked in the laundry room and found a basket of already clean laundry with some of my stuff in it. The sink was empty. The bathroom was neatly organized, with my stuff either put in nice little piles or back in my makeup bag (which my dad argues is a toolbox, and needs wheels). They came home from the concert after me with a big hug and a kiss.

I think they kind of love me.

Good thing they still don't know about the party.

jk ;-)