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That husband and I...
Have been playing…our own little game…of Where’s Waldo…only in our version…it’s called…Where’s Wrigley…came home after several hours…to realize…that husband of mine…had shut Old Man Wrigley…in the garage…how can that be…he declared…I checked all around…before closing the door… But that Wrigley…is a sneaky old boy…caught a glimpse of him one day…when he thought we were driving off…scurrying into the garage…quicker than you’d think…an arthritic furball…could scurry…went in to see where he was…but lo and behold…the place seemed void of any feline…no fluffball to be seen…no sounds to be heard… This time…though…more clever than the cat us…looked deeper…searched further…and what to our wondering eyes should appear…our best friend…Old Man Wrigley…making himself at home…all curled up and happy…in his fancy three story dwelling…disturb him…and he slinks away…to his behind the cupboard getaway…a little more private…and completely…inaccessible… So welcome…Old Man Wrigley…to your vacation home…your home away from home…come visit…anytime…the door will be left open a crack…and like Tom Bodett says… We’ll leave the light on for you… And this husband of mine…agrees…
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This Old Gal
Devoted Wife Magical Mom Retired Teacher Embracing life's grand adventures with humor and grace. Archives
April 2026
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