Saturday, April 5, 2008

Call 911

So here I am at lunch, TOTALLY minding my own business, absolutely NOT provoking ANYONE whatsoever in the SLIGHTEST degree, when out of the clear blue sky, with time only to sense that its trajectory originated on the other side of the kitchen table, a projectile comes hurtling directly at me and thunks me squarely on the forehead, leaving a red mark that lasted for…well…at least a few seconds, I'm sure. I'm thinking about: a. referring to Mandy as "David" from now on, b. taking great caution not to buy any more of that crunchy crust artisanal bread Mandy and I have come to crave so often since living in Paris—it can make for a pretty dastardly little missile!

Mandy ammo – I mean, Mandy: te amo…mi amor, mi esposa!

1 comment:

Mandy said...

how about c. not provoking your wife ;)

But isn't it much more fun having a piece of bread chucked at your head every now and then?