It was with some trepidation that we opened the door upon our return from Thanksgiving.
"Ready for some funk?" I asked Niki.
We were both ready.
But alas, our house smelled like a house. A little musty perhaps from several days of inactivity, but not exactly funky.
"I think I might smell some funk," Niki suggested. After the false trap episode, I was skeptical.
"Here's the new rule," I suggested. "Unless you are 100 percent sure you have heard a sound or smelled some funk, don't think you've done either. We need to be 100 percent or I won't be able to take the letdown."
Unsure, we went to sleep. And then...
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
"You have got to be kidding me," we said at nearly the same time.
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