The Return of Esperanto

This afternoon I walked in my front door (new house) and sensed that something was different.  There was an air of light frivolity.  There was a scent of fresh paint.  There was… loud salsa music eminating from the guest bedroom.  I walked down the hall and opened the door to that room and saw my old friend Esperanto Espiritu!  My wife had lovingly decided to call him back to pain the guest room and hallway in order to cut my a break.

“Ay!  Wassup buddy!?” I exclaimed.

“Mr Harvey!  Watch the wet paint!” is all he could muster.

Seems like just last week he and I were first learning to communicate in fragmented English while simultaneously torturing the cable guy.

After this, I was able to head back to the old house and grab the contents of our bedroom closet AND, mercifully, the coffee pot.   Things are definitely shaping up in the new place.


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