Backlash of Niceness

We spent hours unearthing a lifetime of photos. Birthday parties, dances, school plays, weddings, her whole life was there in those boxes. We didn't finish either. We barely scratched the surface, and no we did not get to see the elusive Mapleville Factory photos. We passed out before we had a chance to come close. I'm not exactly sure when we feel asleep. I do remember my eyelids becoming heavy around two or three in the morning. Olivia and I feel asleep sitting up in the same exact spots we were in the night before. We found a half empty box at the foot of the couch with a post it note on it. It read : WENT TO WORK. WILL BE BACK THIS AFTERNOON - ROSIE. Olivia tosses the note to the side. " We didn't get to the Mapleville picture." She exclaims. "No, do you think we should go through the boxes on our own?" I ask. Olivia sighs. " I'd like to, but she's nice." "Meaning, it would be easier to rummage through her stuff if she were a jerk?" I inquire. Olivia nods. " Do you think she would notice if we looked through the boxes?" I ask. " I have a feeling she would." "What should we do?" " What time is it?" Olivia asks me. I glance at my wristwatch. "Almost ten." "The Price is Right should be on." She suggests. "Ok." I respond , less than enthusiastic. "What's the matter?" She asks sweetly. "It's just not the same without Bob Barker." Olivia looks me in the eye and says " I know it's not the same, but it's something at least."