Backpack shuffled off more carefully with pizza box held in one hand at a time, he offers a wave back to his cousin. NSAIDs are about the only reason he’s moving reasonably well today and just looking at the pose Russell is in makes him inwardly cringe. He has been stretching slowly and gently throughout the day, but no amount of effort could get him into that position right now.

“Sure. Want me to head to the table or the couch?” Wherever he sits, he intends to stay there. He does notice the new shoes at the rack as he lifts his own on with one foot to avoid bending down, “...hey, is someone else here?” Moreover, is this a bad time to be discussing Numbered matters?