What With All The Projectile Vomiting And Everything...
I forgot to say something about my foray into the field of superhero-dom yesterday. After the little girl was safe and clear in the Target parking lot, she walked close to her mother the rest of the way. As I continued toward the Target, I could hear the mother screaming at the little girl: "You just almost got yourself run over by a car, do you know that? Do you know that?"

And then I thought: my God, what have I done? That little girl wasn't frozen by indecision, she was contemplating ending it all. I can't say that I blame her in retrospect. It's a good thing I didn't give anyone involved my name. One day she make seek revenge.

I was going to write a little more as this is Short Monday, the post following my usual weekend-wrap-up magnum opus on Sundays. But then people showed up at my house and I got distracted. Actual people I actually know (my brother-in-law's family complete with new kid) and everything.

I suppose we should all be grateful. I was working up to something about Laura Bush's visit to the Holy Land that included a joke about goat sex, of all things. I can't remember it now for the life of me. Being in the presence of a newborn will do that to you. Those things are terrifying. I can't trust anything that disinterested in me.


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 8.8


Pops
- posted by Pops @ 1:24 PM