The Itch
July 25, 2006
Last Friday was terrible. I had an itch in the middle of my back all day long and I just couldn’t scratch it. I tried everything: I rubbed up against the corner of a wall, against one of the heating vents in the floor, I even dragged a big salad fork out of the dishwasher…but nothing worked! Finally I remembered that Madge thinks she’s a gardener and has a few gardening tools in her closet. A heavy, metal rake fell out of her closet when I opened the door and after some positioning I managed to scratch the itch. That was some itch.
The only bad thing is that by the time Madge and Bernie got home from work it was dark out, and Bernie walked into their bedroom and accidentally stepped on the rake in such a way that the long wooden handle popped up and bonked him. He spent the rest of the night with an ice pack on his head. I blame the itch.
Um, ok, bye.
Chowder.
Last Friday was terrible. I had an itch in the middle of my back all day long and I just couldn’t scratch it. I tried everything: I rubbed up against the corner of a wall, against one of the heating vents in the floor, I even dragged a big salad fork out of the dishwasher…but nothing worked! Finally I remembered that Madge thinks she’s a gardener and has a few gardening tools in her closet. A heavy, metal rake fell out of her closet when I opened the door and after some positioning I managed to scratch the itch. That was some itch.
The only bad thing is that by the time Madge and Bernie got home from work it was dark out, and Bernie walked into their bedroom and accidentally stepped on the rake in such a way that the long wooden handle popped up and bonked him. He spent the rest of the night with an ice pack on his head. I blame the itch.
Um, ok, bye.
Chowder.
posted by Chowder at Monday, August 14, 2006
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