Do you hear me, Henry?"Yeah. Totally. As if I would EVER have the brass balls to even think about doing something like that. I didn't say anything but...simply nodded. Boy, did my throat feel dry. I was a bundle of nerves as Mom suddenly reached up to the front of her brassiere and unclipped it. Still holding the garment to her chest, she looked up at me under her halo of Doris Day hair."Ready?" she asked.NO. YES. NO. WAIT. MAYBE. HOLY SHIT.TITS!*Mom dropped her bra onto the floor.Leaving her. She walked out into the hall and to the stairs, just about to call up to the stage hands that she'd found the dog."Where the hell's that animal?" she could hear Bob yelling. "That goddamned kennel my wife suggested we use is calling up. They need him for some kid's television show tonight," Bob shouted angrily.So that was it! Connie had arranged the whole thing--the dog, the time, the kennel--everything.Maybe she even arranged the play--all about a dog. She could keep her husband happy by. More

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