Godzilla wears a moomoo

I'm walking around, drinking tea this morning (a.k.a. "afternoon"), when a blubbery, flower-print apparition saunters into view through my sliding glass door.

Apparently someone wakes up later than I do. It's after 3 p.m., and the spongy, gray-haired reptile totters around the grass in her nightdress and curlers.

She staggers my way, but sees me, thinks better of it, and heads off between two other houses, eventually circling back to her porch.

Damn, and I was finally going to meet someone...

I should knock on Grandma Godzilla's door and introduce myself.