50 Days of Rachel

Tomorrow marks day #50 since Rachel moved in.  Some thoughts:

-Every day around 5pm, the door opens and Rachel walks in and I can't believe my good luck. Then last night I was sitting in the big comfy chair when Rach comes in and curls up on my lap, like a cat. I stroked her hair while I read my book. I decided she's kind of like having a sister, a nanny and a pet all rolled up into one.

-I thought living with her would make her seem more human.  It doesn't. Take the mornings- I expected to get to know a little bit of 'morning Rachel'.  You know, a bit haggard, batting at the alarm clock, stumbling into the shower, grunting...but no. No, there's never any alarm clock.  No getting ready noises. No toilet flushing or tooth-brushing sounds..instead the door to Rachel's room opens at 7:28 each morning and she springs forth, fully formed and perfectly coiffed, ready to greet the day. It's a little disturbing, frankly.

- Did you know Rachel doesn't like pineapple on pizza?  I did not know that.

-She does, however, like free chocolate, and if you ask her about it, the conversation will go like this:
Me: Rachel, do you know anything about the eight Reese's Peanut Butter Cups that are on the kitchen counter?
Rachel: ...
Rachel, sounding chagrined: I know I meant to hide them before you got home.

- This morning I was packing up Lucy's lunch, so there was food out on the counter, including a couple of speckly looking bananas. Rachel was leaving to work when suddenly she stops and looks at the bananas. She looks for about 5 seconds, then slooowly she reaches her hand into her bag and pulls out a perfect banana.  The poster child of bananas.  Perfectly yellow and smooth, not a brown spot to be seen. She looks at her perfect banana (which she purchased WITH HER OWN MONEY) and gently sets it down on the counter, trading it for a crummy banana, which she puts into her purse and heads out the door. And that pretty much sums up living with Rachel.