"He goes by 'Daddy' and he's going to be pressure washing your windows."
Daddy? I haven't even called my own father that since I was five. I'm not calling a random stranger 'Daddy,' I don't care what he wants to "go by."
Well, if he's pressure washing the windows, he's outside. So I don't really have to worry about what I'll be calling him, because I'll be sitting inside, in my office.
I could hear Daddy bustling about out there, and at first I was a little annoyed that they (he?) picked the middle of the workday to do such noisy work. But soon I tuned it out and became engrossed in my work.
That is, until a loud blast directly behind me sent me leaping out of my chair.
The one and only window in my office is about 28" tall by 10" wide. Very small. But Daddy was thorough and no window went unwashed. As I jumped up and looked behind me, I saw the reason for the loud noise. There was Daddy staring in at me through the window he just cleaned. Did I mention he was doing this shirtless and wearing jorts?
Daddy! Stop being so creepy!
