My day started out with a gross little adventure that will be quick to tell, and I’m really wiped out by my afternoon adventure (a trip with my darling daughter to the National World War I Museum, here in K.C.). So a brief summary of the morning bit, and then I’m done for today…
I was eating breakfast on the back patio, as is my wont (points for me for using a weird word!), and noticed that my finger was rather sticky.
“I must have some jam on my finger,” I said to myself, completely ignoring the fact that all I was eating was a fried egg. No jam.
Without thinking, I licked what I thought was jam off that finger and immediately gagged. Definitely not jam.
Then I looked at the table.
Right where my finger had been resting was a puddle of squirrel pee. “How does she know what squirrel pee looks like?” you may be asking yourself.
We have a lot of squirrels. They hang out on our patio table after we’ve filled the bird feeders and have spilled seed. I’m well-versed in the telltale signs of their presence.
There was a whole lot of spitting and groaning. I dashed into the house to rinse my mouth out. Thought about using soap, but didn’t.
That was bad enough, but something possessed me to share this anecdote with one of my co-workers (the senior pastor, to be precise) later in the morning. He about fell over, laughing, and then he went back to the main office.
An hour later, this was in my inbox – from our associate pastor, no less, so I then knew that the whole office had heard my tale of woe.
These are the people I work with. 🙂