Craig (and probably God) would prefer it if I didn't cuss on my blog (or in person) so I'm going to go the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. route and REPLACE a word I would really, REALLY like to be saying with the word 'puppy'.
We (me and marie) have a box that we take to the courthouse every day. It contains folders, court papers, tickets, mail, etc plus a whole bunch of puppy crap that never gets taken out (such as a thousand paperclips, miscellaneous slips of paper and about three hundred dollars worth of pennies). We take our box and go to the various offices and do our rounds, dropping off and picking up.
-Side Note: the steps in the courthouse are open (as in there is open space between each step).
Well today I'm attempting to go up the stairs to the DA's office and I freakin trip on the step and my puppy arm goes through the mother puppy step so my left arm is just dangling in space while my shoulder slams hard and stops at the rock steps and I'm pretty sure I looked like one of the puppy racoons that gets their arm stuck in a trap and wriggles and wriggles and can't break loose and the box (oh that mother PUPPY box), gets flung up in the air, what with all the thrashing about and all of the five thousand contents come flying out and land anywhere from on top of me to thirty feet away (some of which went through the steps scattering across the back part of the courthouse. I just lay there, defeated. Randy Pruitt comes to my rescue all the time going "are you okay, are you okay?" And I just lay there with my arm warped like a retarded racoon.
Finally I manage to get up and Randy and another good citizen help me gather all of the belongings and I go to DA's office (via the puppy elevator this time) and as I'm coming back down to leave Randy goes "Have a good day and be careful" and I'm all like if only you knew, that was the mother puppy understatement of the year.
No comments:
Post a Comment