I just don't blog often enough about the many adventures Squirt and I have. It's like carrying a concealed weapon 24/7. The parallels are many, and I'll let you draw them in your own mind. But I'm pretty confident we could hold up a bank together.
Last week, after polishing off some ice cream (if surgery's only benefit was that I can now eat ice cream without getting at all sick, it was worth it! Okay, there were a couple other benefits, too, but this is one I enjoy greatly!), I headed over to the ladies' room in the somewhat decrepit Braum's. The bathroom door seemed a little wobbly, so I made doubly sure that the little button lock was deployed.
So I'm sittin' there, calmly emptying Squirt's bag when...
... it becomes apparent that the lock doesn't actually work, as lo and behold, a mother and her four-year old daughter are now standing in the doorway.
I guess Squirt made this bathroom intrusion a bit more disconcerting to them than the typical "oh I am so sorry let me shut the door oops" moment.
Have you seen those cartoons where a character opens the door to something terrifying and unexpected, and his eyes bug out?
Did you know that real people can make that same face?