With Suzanne’s pending arrival only hours away, I had to think fast. Her long weekend with her Champagne Garden Club family had left me temporarily on my own for a few days, and I had nothing visible but a put-together puzzle to show for it. Panic set in. I needed to at least make it appear as if I had done something productive or at least noteworthy around the house with my time. I had to get some visible housework done. This lickety-split task would require near supernatural help. I turned to my over-bigly clown Bow Tie o’ the Day for inspiration, and I was certain I needed to wear a cape as I houseworked. I knew this was a job for my Frida Kahlo-head-with-skulls cape. I did laundry. I scrubbed kitchen counters. I dusted baseboards. I Swiffer-mopped the floors. I even cleaned the explosion mess I made weeks ago in the freezer when I had forgotten I’d put a can of flavored water in to chill for thirty minutes and I had mindlessly left it overnight. I tidied up so quickly that I was a nothing but a speedy blur through the house for a few hours. That Frida Kahlo cape had me moving like lightning. The kicker is this: when Suzanne finally arrived home safely Sunday afternoon, she was so tired she didn’t notice one clean or tidied thing. She did notice the new puzzle I had put together solo, and she chastised me for doing it without her. Folks, I see my future: I will be dismantling the Flying Fish puzzle, so we can put it together—together. And I am not complaining. 💀