This morning I picked up dog poop. Although I made the appropriate “ew” and “yuck” faces and noises, I didn’t squirm! (It wasn’t as gross as it should have been, according to what my overactive imagination had prepared me for.)
As I walked back down my clean suburban street, I made another face of “ew” and “yuck”, realizing that I had a bag of feces in my hand.
“Oh well,” my imagination told me, “at least if you get mugged you have something to squish in his face!”
C’est vrai.
No comments:
Post a Comment