Meddling

I'm a fan of meddling. I don't mean emotional meddling or meddling in people's actual affairs. I am mostly in favor of meddling in people's homes or offices when they are away. Again, I should clarify: the meddling I mention does not involve thievery or destruction or even invasion of privacy. It is always Ernie-approved-type meddling. Such meddling might involve monkey lamps or giant stuffed hearts--anything that lets the absent inhabitant know that I have been thinking about him or her and that I appreciate the trust placed in me to water the plants or feed the cat.

The test of a good meddling varies. Sometimes you want it to be a slowly revealed surprise, like when your friend looks in her seldom-opened drawer two or three weeks later to discover the ridiculous stuffed blowfish you left in there. Other good meddlings involve volume: a tiny plastic monkey in every egg cup, hiding in every pillowcase, and hanging from every light fixture. Also excellent is the discover-immediately-upon-arriving meddling that causes loud and spontaneous laughter.

The accompanying picture is an example of the last type. I had no hand in this event, but it was truly so Ernietastic, I had to commemorate it. When the owner of this office returns from his much-needed vacation, I hope to hear his guffaws two floors away.