"Good night, Wilbur!"
There was a pause.
"Good night, Charlotte!"
"Good night, Wilbur!"
"Good night!"
"Good night!"
Wilbur is trying to postpone bedtime here. I am not.
It has been a very long day, starting with work and ending with these blog posts. In between, I attended my niece's wedding rehearsal and went ballet shoe shopping with my daughter and cleaned my bathroom and made some desserts for the wedding reception. Like I said, a long day.
Therefore, I will give you a short fairy tale this evening.
Once upon a time, a wizard named Gothel lived with his wife in an abandoned windmill at the edge of the world. He practiced all kinds of spells and potions all day long.
One day, as his wife was telling him about her trip to the local wine merchant, Gothel mixed ragweed with frog's breath and made a sleeping potion so powerful that just the fumes from the mixture put Gothel to sleep for three weeks.
When he woke up, Gothel's wife looked at him and said, "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"
Moral of the story: don't smell ragweed mixed with frog's breath and operate heavy machinery.
And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.
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| Take two sniffs and call me in three weeks |
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