So I have this habit lately of dropping things under the desk where the computer sits. If it was just random thngs I wouldn't car. But if it's foodstuffs. If I could find where these items of food stuff land then I wouldn't care. But I can't and I find that kind of disturbing. A pretzel disapeared earlier today, which isn't so bad. However that chunk of tomatoe that got away from me on Friday, well that's a bit of a mystery. I'd kind of like to know where that went.
It reminds me of this time I was on the phone with my father, and we're chatting away as adult men do. I'm down in Nc up to something and he's sounding kind of distracted. So I asked him what's wrong and he just sort of says in an offhand kind of way, " Well I cut the end of my finger off and it fell somewhere. Now I can't find it." He just kind of mentioned it like he dropped his pen. This being my father I wasn't as surprised as you'd think I'd be so I just casually asked, " Oh yeah? How'd that happen?."
" Oh I was fixing that glass lamp shade on my desk and it broke, cut the tip of my finger right off." "
"Huh, well that sucks."
" Well it's just the tip. everything forward of the bone."
" Well what are you gonna do?"
" Well it doesn't bother me any. I just can't find it, and the damn cat's prowling around my feet. I'm hoping she didn't latch on to it."
" Yeah, well that cat'll eat anything."
" I'm gonna let you go, see if I can't find that thing. Or else it'll end up in the cat."
" Alright, I'll talk to you later."
So I hung up and my room mate looked up from her book and said, " So what's going on with your dad?"
I said, " Oh he just cut the tip of his finger off fixing a lamp. Now he can't find it and he think's the cat might have eaten it."
She went back to her book.
" So you're dad's fine?"
" Oh yeah."
And that's a true story albeit a sick one. The funny thing is I don't think he ever found the end of his finger, and he walks around with his left index finger a little shorter than his right.
I'd still like to know where the hell that chunk of tomato ran off to.
It reminds me of this time I was on the phone with my father, and we're chatting away as adult men do. I'm down in Nc up to something and he's sounding kind of distracted. So I asked him what's wrong and he just sort of says in an offhand kind of way, " Well I cut the end of my finger off and it fell somewhere. Now I can't find it." He just kind of mentioned it like he dropped his pen. This being my father I wasn't as surprised as you'd think I'd be so I just casually asked, " Oh yeah? How'd that happen?."
" Oh I was fixing that glass lamp shade on my desk and it broke, cut the tip of my finger right off." "
"Huh, well that sucks."
" Well it's just the tip. everything forward of the bone."
" Well what are you gonna do?"
" Well it doesn't bother me any. I just can't find it, and the damn cat's prowling around my feet. I'm hoping she didn't latch on to it."
" Yeah, well that cat'll eat anything."
" I'm gonna let you go, see if I can't find that thing. Or else it'll end up in the cat."
" Alright, I'll talk to you later."
So I hung up and my room mate looked up from her book and said, " So what's going on with your dad?"
I said, " Oh he just cut the tip of his finger off fixing a lamp. Now he can't find it and he think's the cat might have eaten it."
She went back to her book.
" So you're dad's fine?"
" Oh yeah."
And that's a true story albeit a sick one. The funny thing is I don't think he ever found the end of his finger, and he walks around with his left index finger a little shorter than his right.
I'd still like to know where the hell that chunk of tomato ran off to.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
Oh yeah, and thanks for showing me how to spell "whoa."