My New Friend

This morning I woke up because I heard some noise in the living room. I walked out and our door was wide open and there was a Mexican standing in the doorway. I said "hello..." I knew that my grandparents had hired some people to paint the trim on their house but I couldn't figure out why this man had opened my door and was standing in my living room. I figured there wasn't really anything to be done but eat breakfast. So that's what I did. Then I went up to the track to go running. I went upstairs before I left and said, "Grandma, there is a man in my house." She said he must have misunderstood when he asked if anyone was downstairs. He was painting some doors that went into the shop (which is seperate from our house) and just figured he would also paint our door. So I went to the track. When I got back an hour later, the painters' truck was gone so I figured I would have my house back. Imagine my surprise when I went around back to our door, and the Mexican was lounging in our chairs, asleep on our back porch. As I'm typing this, I can see his feet resting up on a chair out the window. Who is this man? I don't know. Why did his fellow painters leave him here asleep on my porch? I don't know. How long will he be here? I don't know. But at least it's made for an interesting morning. (I took a picture of his feet. I didn't want him to wake up while I was snapping a picture of him so I had to be sneaky.)