”“Will three o’clock this afternoon be okay?”“Yes.”“Meet me in the basement at the elevator doors. And bring the lube with you.”“Tha...ks, I’ll be there.”I arrived at the elevator doors shortly before three. Honeybee was already there, shifting nervously from foot to foot as she waited.“Hey, you don’t have to do this if you’re not sure,” I tried to reassure her.“After giving myself an enema and rubbing gunk up my bum, I’m sure as hell not going to back out now,” she insisted.I led her to the. She gave me a look as if to say, “that should be obvious.”“I’m cleaning the oven,” she said.“Why are you cleaning the oven?” Now I think about it, that was a pretty stupid question.“Because it’s dirty!” She gave me another of those looks and reached back into the oven. I guess I deserved that.At least she was talking to us – I suppose that’s better than being ignored.It did mean we couldn’t bake anything for breakfast. Not that we would’ve anyway on a school morning. Dad arrived in the kitchen. More

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