OK. I am going to tell you a story. A horror story!
I got up today and went to breakfast. Yes, I do that every day. But today, as I was sleepily pouring my orange juice, William walked up to get milk. And he was singing. A terrible song. A Very Terrible Song. “Be kind to your web-footed friend……”
My respsonse? “WHAT?!??!?!!?!?!!?” [insert horror, dread, and complete disbelief into the tone] I stared at him, completely speechless, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that somebody out EAST was singing the worst song in the world, and I wondered whether he was being paid to do it. I wondered if Mr. N knows Mr. William. I wondered if this was revenge for not going for that walk in the bush. I wondered if he knew the whole song. I wondered if he had been damaged by a DUCK when he was a young child. I wondered if the song would haunt my day if I ran away screaming my head off — or would that provide enough diversion for it not to stick? I wondered whether God was trying to punish me for the sins of my childhood.
William stood there, wondering what he had done wrong. I had yet to offer an explanation. I finally closed my mouth, poured my juice, and walked away, shaking my head in disbelief. Maybe I’ll wear earplugs to breakfast tomorrow, ’cause there’s something going over and over and over in my head right now…. “be kind to your web-footed friend….”!!!!!