Sunday, November 16, 2008

Notes from the Den of Iniquity

Last night, while going to bed, my spouse and I had a discussion about how my sister tends to stomp every time she goes up the stairs.

Me: "I don't get it. I take pride in being able to move incredibly quietly for my size. Unless I'm angry. Then I want my footfalls to be like a portent of doom."

Spouse: "Baby, you are a portent of doom."


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