While I was honing my Couch Jedi skills this afternoon, Chris was at the hardware store buying a squeegee to clean the very windows I was taking photos of from the couch. And instead of peeling me a grape when he got home, Chris actually washed those windows.
Lucky for all of us here at Gruel for Dinner, I was able to take that photo without stepping off the Millennium Falcon that is my couch (I'm going to work this metaphor to the bone), although I did have to pause my show.
I was finally forced off the mothership when Chris stuck his head in the window (at this point he was out on the roof washing the south-facing windows) and requested that I go ask the neighbor if she wanted her windows washed (who is this man, and how did I convince him to marry me? In my world, neighbors are people you pretend you don't see when you're standing next to them in the elevator). Out of some misplaced sense of guilt I did as he asked, completely forgetting that I WAS WEARING MY JEDI OUTFIT.
In case it's unclear, I just knocked on my neighbor's door wearing high-water orange fleece pants; striped socks; clogs that are at least two sizes too small, forcing me to walk in a shuffle; and a stained pink sweater with gaping holes in the armpits. The neighbor actually looked scared when she answered.
There goes the neighborhood.