Boy do the days slip past. Not nearly enough gets done before that school bell starts ringing and those kids come piling out. Pickup time already.
Oh god, I promised you flowers earlier, didn’t I? I’m sorry. Really, I am. But it wasn’t my fault, promise. Tomorrow, baby, I promise. I wanted to surprise you, really I did, but they didn’t come in like I wanted. Tomorrow. Really. Tomorrow I’ll make it all up to you. A big bouquet of petunias, marigolds, and geraniums! 1,300 of those bad boys, all wrapped up nice and pretty and ---
What? Who’s Red? Red who? I don’t know no— What? Well, yea, that’s her name and number there, but baby, she’s ain’t no one. I promi--
What? No. You’re just talking crazy now, that’s what you’re doing. Those flowers aren’t for her. Why would I give some girl a thousand flowers? Why wou--
Okay, okay, 1,300, but baby, I’m te-- Hey! Where you going? Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there. I can explain everything.