This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. And this weekend was more work, work, work for the persons. Packing, cleaning, packing, get rid of junk, packing, loading the RV house thing. It was enough to make my head spin…almost as bad as when I think about peanut butter cookies.
As we were on one of our breaks and walking thru the neighborhood, we came upon Bob. Bob the ex-Sheriff down the street. That’s because he retired when he knew I was in town. Then there’s another Bob a few houses down who never wears shoes and stands in his driveway. Then there’s another Bob on another street with a golf cart who rides around seeing what’s wrong then reporting them although he is not a Sheriff and I have him on my list this week to arrest. Question is…is everyone named Bob?
Girl Person says that since me and Digby like to talk to people and hang out and visit, that we are really going to like this trip and all the Bobs we get to meet. She says no, not everyone is named Bob, but if we want to call them that it’s all good. She says no one is a stranger, just friends we haven’t met yet. I agree. Just don’t be the Bob on the golf cart. Be the Bob with peanut butter cookies. Or you. Are. Arrested.
-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle
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