I was a little delirious from pushing myself so hard on my morning run, but I was fairly certain that when I returned to The House on the Hill, two of the ugliest demons I had ever seen were mowing my lawn.
I didn’t actually trust my eyes until The Devil appeared on my front porch and waved. The fact that he was wearing a “One Hell of a Chef” apron over his impeccably tailored suit didn’t even register with me at first.
That’s how distracted I was by the sight of the hideous, but hardworking demons on my front lawn.
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought a couple of my personal landscapers to take care of the grass,” Lucifer shouted to me from the porch. “They don’t really have much to do back home.”
The Prince of Darkness chuckled and then hurled a bottle of Snapple at me. Luckily, my reflexes were quick enough to snatch that baby out of the air because I probably would have wept had it smashed open on the blacktop of the driveway.
“What exactly is going on here?” I asked after I’d drained half the iced tea in one gulp.
“Come on up and I’ll explain,” Satan beckoned me onto the porch with a giant spatula. “I don’t want the burgers to burn.”
Dripping in sweat and totally spent from running three miles, I nodded politely at the ugly lawnmower demons and trudged up to my front porch where The Devil had the barbecue loaded up with burgers, red hot dogs, and chicken.
“Are we having a party?” I queried as I snatched my towel off the porch chair and wiped about a gallon of sweat from my face.
I then collapsed onto the chair and finished the rest of my Snapple.
Lucifer had a fresh one in my hand before I even realized the original bottle was empty.
“It’s Labor Day weekend and you’ve worked thirteen days in a row, so it’s time for you to relax and enjoy the holiday that honors the American worker,” The Prince of Darkness explained with his most charming smile. “Also, I was worried that you might try to go to work today, so I showed up early with a small demon detail to make sure that you did not try to do something so foolish.”
He gave his demons down on the lawn a thumbs up and then went to work flipping all the meat that was on the grill.
“That was really sweet of you,” I had to admit. “I’ve been working too hard lately, but no one else has stepped up to check on me and make sure I wasn’t overdoing it.”
I was touched. Or maybe I was just lightheaded from my run. Either way, I popped open the second Snapple and got to work on emptying the bottle.
“Happy to be of service,” Satan quipped. “I also remembered that Notre Dame kicks off the season tonight, and I thought that might be a little difficult for you. So I’m going to stay and watch the game with you.”
He was right about that. I love Notre Dame, and I fully intended to watch the game, but I also knew that watching The Fighting Irish all night might conjure up some tears, given recent events involving My Sweet Irish Girl.
“It will fun to have someone around for the game,” was all I said about that topic because I simply couldn’t handle opening that can of Irish worms right now.
“It’s going to be a wonderful Sunday!” The Devil declared. “Now go take a shower. You reek of sweat and if even a drop of it gets on my suit there will be Hell to pay.”
“Thanks, buddy,” I said softly. “For everything.”
Lucifer winked and turned his attention back to the grill. Maybe it was going to be a great Labor Day at The House on the Hill after all…