Misquoted

I've been getting sicker by the day, and was feeling really lousy yesterday--coughing, fever, achey, sleeping a lot. Joel was home with me, as it was Good Friday. I was wearing mismatched PJ's, hadn't brushed my hair, no make-up, of course, and generally had that "I look like I feel" appearance.

The doorbell rang. I panicked and hoped it was only a FedEx drop.

Joel said, "I'll look out the window and see who it is." It was Bob, our neighbor, and I figured he was reminding us to please pick up his mail and newspaper. No need for a face-to-face encounter with me.

I grabbed Joel's shoulder with one hand and pointed to my clothes and hair with the other. Then I mouthed the words, "Tell him I can't come to the door." Then I hid in the stairwell of the basement, out of sight, but within earshot.

"Hey, Joel, how are you? Is your mom home?"
"Uh, yes, she's home. But she told me to say she looks horrible."