In the Land of PeeBeeJay

Once upon a Monday afternoon, in a house that was usually pretty normal and peaceful, a construction manager and manufacturer's rep rang the bell. Our intrepid knitter answered with a half-knit self-striping sock in 2x2 rib in her hands -- but unfortunately, the knitting isn't very relevant to this story.

Once she agreed to let the two men in, three others followed on their heels. Big, strong, young, handsome ones. Who moved furniture. Fast.

Our intrepid knitter's kitchen and family room were picked clean in record time. Bare walls, bare floors, bare counters.

One of the strapping young men, his bare chest glistening with dew, reached high above him to hang a sheet of plastic over the doorways. Contrary to rumor, knitters aren't dead from the waist down. In fact, so distracted was our knitter by the sight of all that muscular male flesh (swoon!), that she didn't quite realize he intended to seal off the kitchen. Completely.

"WAIT!" she cried. "I need my--"

My what? As The Torso posed with a twinkle in his eyes, a patient smile, and -- did I mention this? -- a bare chest, our knitter forgot the entire English language.

So she pointed. To that big box thing. What's it called? Funny name. Hungryender. Foodamajig. Six pack abs tight enough to fry eggs. And those biceps. Good God, did you see those biceps--?!

"I can bench 380," said The Torso.

"Umglibgerwhalla," said the knitter.

Would somebody please put a shirt on this man? On second thought, hold the shirt. And the pants, too, if we're lucky.

sigh...

















And now you all know how the knitter's refrigerator ended up in the hallway, half-blocking the front door. And now you also know how every other Item That Might Be Useful If Only I Could Have Thought Of It (toaster, coffeemaker, hot pot, knives, cutting board, drinking glasses) are sealed behind plastic.
















I slipped into the room to liberate some teabags, but they already had the pantry sealed, and then they caught me and chased me out. Would somebody please fix this mess so I can get back to my knitting? Or at least take off their clothes and distract me some more?

ps. The Torso really did tell me that he can bench 380.