The Space Between a Table & Booth!
Booth! moved out yesterday. He was our temporary renter, a friend in need, a stinker of socks and part of the family. I suppose he is still all of those things, and more, but now it is just someone else rocking him to sleep each night.
It was never uncomfortable having the Fonz stay with us, despite the trail of rotating women and the constant sound of "Heeeyyy!" from the bathroom. He didn't take up a lot of space or require much more than sunshine,
liquor water and the occasional TLC.
The boys loved having him in the house. So did we.
This morning I went into the room he had been living in to air it out and clean it up. The faint scent of sock still lingered. It was a tender moment. It was a good place for a Stick Up. I didn't have one, so I put a dirty diaper on the floor and shut the door. The room should smell better in a day or two.
There was a message left on the table in the corner. It was a sweet goodbye and a painful reminder that the table was all we had left of him. We no longer had a Booth!.
I'm not too upset. I know I'll see him again and often. As long as there is injustice in the world and beer in the fridge, he'll be here. Especially during football season.
Best of luck my friend. You're welcome.