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Poor Alex. In all her desire to be good and obedient, she misses out on the stuff that really makes a person feel alive. I got her a sniff of that MJ pheromone. And I would have done more if there hadn’t been people around.

MJ showed up at church on Sunday, apparently, and one of the nieces talked her into giving her a ride home. She also bulldozed her into coming inside for a minute. She was wearing her brown sweater again—the one that fits snugly and makes her look like she has bigger breasts than she does. I don’t have any idea why she wears a sweater when it’s a hundred degrees outside, but I don’t care because the sweater looks amazing on her. And she knows it.

So I greeted her with a little smirk. She seemed happy—almost playful. So I knew I could get away with…stuff. If I wanted. She was standing at the top of the stairs as I was coming up, and I stopped momentarily at the step just below where she was standing, and I got really close to her so that my nose was nearly touching her chest, and I drew a nice slow intake of breath, and then I smiled and told her I missed that smell, and went on past her into the kitchen without looking back. It was blissful. I doubt anybody saw. And if she didn’t like it she shouldn’t show up where I live. But I think she did like it. And so did Alex.