Floored

"There's furniture in the kitchen."

I wiggled the newspaper to indicate "transmission received" and feeling all Maine-like for no particular reason other than it's Fall Back week muttered an "Ay-yup" for emphasis.

"Oh, I get it." (She's a fast study, my daughter.) "The guys had to move all this stuff from there to here because they're going to paint the floors there."

"Refinish."

"Whatever. How long is this stuff going to be in here?"

I put down the paper, fixed my daughter with The Glare and transmitted the answer telepathically.

"Oh, until the floor is dry, cured or whatever, about two days."

I'm glad I learned telepathy. It saves a lot of time.