The Boy is still in the hospital. The Mister has gone back to work, and won't return until Thursday evening.
I am utterly alone (not counting the constant annoyance provided by Eddy, the cat).
I've stopped closing the bathroom door when I use the facilities. There's nobody here to see me.
Today, while seated on the toilet, I saw a dime-sized circle of light shimmering on the wall outside the bathroom door. I watched it dance across the wall.
It freaked me out a little. Remember, nobody's here. Eddy doesn't own a penlight, and has no way of holding one, if she did.
I glanced to the left - the light moved. Turning my head to the right caused the ball of light to move in that direction.
"It's Tinkerbell!", I said to nobody.
I thought of clapping to see if the light would get brighter, but figured talking loudly to myself was weird enough (not to mention the whole 'pants pulled down to my ankles as I sat on the toilet' thing).
"Maybe I'm losing my mind, and will soon be in the hospital with The Boy."
Directly behind the toilet, there is a window, covered with closed miniblinds. It's sunny today.
I turned toward the window, and noticed the pinprick of light that shines through the holes that hold the miniblind strings.
The pinprick of light that shines directly on the copper-colored metal on my eyeglass frame - and ricochets onto the wall.
Disgusted that logic overcame my need for something magical, I finish my bathroom activities, wash and dry my hands and write this post.
I'd have preferred it to be Tinkerbell.
I really need some fairy magic.
Maybe if all of us clap...