They say home is where your heart is. Whoever the ‘they’ is, I say they are wrong. Home is where you chain your grill. Pieces of equipment like grills should be taken seriously. And chained to your back steps. With a chain. A big-ass white one. From Lowes. That way if anyone gets it into their head to ‘acquire’ what is rightfully your grill, they will have to go to the trouble of taking the whole gosh-durned trailer as well. With the inhabitants. And the Velveeta cookbook you so proudly display. I want my mother-in-law to know I am doing right by her son. Feeding him well and all that jazz. Golly! I forgot to pick it up last time I was at the bookstore! I reckon I’ll see if the neighbors have one at their next yard sale. That way I’ll have something to feed the ex-cons who stop by on their way out of town. I betcha if I had a clothesline, I’d be their first stop on the escape from the chick prison, excuse me, Women’s Correctional Facility.