On Friday I got home from work at noon (which is pretty normal), and I changed into my fuzzy penguin pajamas and got to work on my Hobbit hole cake. At one o’clock the doorbell rang, so I wipe my sugary hands on a paper towel, shuffle over, and open the door. Here is the conversation that followed.
Man: I’m from RG&E and I’m here to read the gas meter?
Me: Oh, sure. Come on in.
Man: Are your parents home?
Man: Oh! Ok, I’m just going to leave this on your door, and I can come back for it later. (hangs thing on door handle)
Man: It’s the rules. I’m not allowed to enter a house unless there’s someone over 18 there.
Me: (pause)…I’m 25.
Man: Oh! I’m sorry! (turns bright red)
Me: (laughing) that’s ok, it’s probably the pajamas. Come on in.