Sign of summer #2

My wet cycling clothes gathered around the patio table for a summit.

When you ride your bike almost every day, you accumulate an enormous amount of laundry. The local laundromat charges three bucks a load, so I am fortunate to have access to my sister's washer and dryer upstairs. I am trying not to abuse my privileges--really I am! But the other day I found myself without a clean pair of bike shorts for my afternoon ride. My sis was out, but I recalled that I had a key to the back door. I reasoned that she'd never know if I just let myself in and did one tiny load.

Naturally, I forgot about the security alarm and soon found myself caught, with a wet chamois in one hand and a howling dog in the other, by two police officers. They stayed for less than 45 seconds and told me that I didn't look like a burglar. I can imagine what they think a burglar looks like. I could probably use this to my advantage and have a lucrative career robbing houses if the PhD thing doesn't work out. Stash people's valuables in a box of Tide. "Me? I'm just here to do laundry!"

My sister found out that I'd been breaking and entering and was not happy with me. I had to pay reparations (in the form of chocolate) to try to ease my guilty conscience and restore good sibling relations.