High Heels

When Husband worked the evening shift, he would, upon occasion, come home for dinner (euphemistically speaking.)

He would drive the company car, so when he got home he didn’t have his house keys. He would ring the bell.

Our apartment was on the second floor, the back apartment in the last building at the far end of the complex. What I’m saying is NOBODY EVER came to our door uninvited. (We never even saw our neighbors in all the years we lived there! Heard them, yes, but never saw them!)

I had decided on this occasion to meet him at the door wearing high heels and a smile.

Since I was expecting him, when the doorbell rang, I didn’t bother to look through the peephole, I just opened the door.

The look on the UPS man’s face was priceless!

I often wonder how his version of the story goes when he retells it!