I've been under the weather for the past few days, while Coco has been in rare form. Partying for nights on end, blasting everything from Iron Maiden to Dolly Parton on a tiny boombox I picked up for her at the thrift store, and emptying enough bottles to stock a liquor store.
This afternoon I rolled off the couch and grabbed a handful of parsley to feed Coco something that wasn't liquid. When I walked in, Coco was half asleep and the window screen was ripped open.
"What in the world is going on, Cokes? What happened to the screen?"
"Ease up, Ma. It's Devil's Night. I was out on the roof pranking the neighborhood, covering their pathetic yards with your last rolls of TP."
I shook my head. "Oh great, so there's no TP in the house? Thanks Coco. Appreciate it. Also, please note that Devil's Night takes place at night, and it's not for another month."
"Yeah well, it makes me happy to know that someone in this house is going to get caught on the toilet with no place to go," Coco laughed. "My work here is done. Bada bing, bada boom."
Her eyes began to close. "Every rose has it's thorn, just like every night has its dawn..."
I put her parsley on the table. "Are you singin' a little Poison, honey pie?"
"Just like every bunny sings a sad, sad song..."
"Sleep it off Coco." I said, reaching to lower the blinds.
When I looked out the window, I saw that Coco had only TP'd the tree in our front yard.
I headed downstairs to grab a step ladder while Coco snored, surrounded by souvenirs.