Yesterday I was under the upstairs balcony, and I could hear Andrew, my upstairs neighbor, and his brother disagreeing about the actual number of pots that I have on the porch and surrounding area.
“I’m telling you, it’s thirty-seven! No, more, ‘cause I can count ‘em from here!”
”No way, I don’t believe you.”
They went back and forth a couple of times, so, I boldly stepped out and said, “Hey! Let’s count them!”
Which we then proceeded to do. I’m afraid thirty-seven falls a bit short of the mark—it’s really sixty-eight! Woo-hoo! Not counting the houseplants that are, of course, inside the apartment. And the hallway. (Does that make them apartment plants? I guess just indoor plants. It’s not their fault I don’t live in a house.)
Because it wasn’t too hot, I decided to do some rearranging, and while I was at it, sweep off the entire porch and generally tidy up a bit.
When Sophia got home from work, she really liked it, and when I told her the story about how Andrew, his brother, and I counted the pots—she didn’t believe me! So we had to do it again.
“I don’t see how it’s possible. It looks like you have fewer than you did before,” Sophia mused.
”I don’t see myself,” I added. “It just seems like sixty-eight pots would be a lot more.”
Well, there might be more yet. I’ll keep you posted.