WARNING: There is a severe blog rant warning in effect. Please, don’t travel.
This morning, I went to the kitchen to find that all of my muffins have been eaten. I cursed the gods and cut my hair. I then decided to make myself a couple slices of delicious peanut butter and raspberry jam toast. I went to the cupboard to retrieve the fresh, home-made loaf of bread that Leah made yesterday–that’s right, home-made. I got the bread knife to slice a couple of peices.  Turns out the toaster is stuck on bagel so it only toasted one side–oh well. I carefully apply the peanut butter and then the jam (to the un-toasted side). I look behind me to see that I had left a light on in the dining room.  I pick up my plate and my glass of orange juice and turn around to flip the switch off but the toasted side was very slippery and they slipped off my plate! I tried to balance them, a juggler without a hope. They fell to the floor, jam side down. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I killed a fattened calf and drank the blood! That was gross. Then I cleaned up the wasted PB & J. And I made myself another two slices. They were delicious.
The End. Â
Only because no one has commented on this blog do I write. The silence is the one thing I can’t stand.
Sounds like the muffin-eating culprit may be someone you know, some very close to you. Consider turning a family member in.
Re: blood of calf and the messy flood. Jam side down. This is clearly a metaphor for you life Rhett. You are the clean floor sullied by your own ineptitude. The jam is not the issue, man. Until you learn to juggle you can never reach your potential. The floor may appear clear, but you will always have the dirty memories. In that respect, you cannot be free without the sleight of hand maneuvers that juggling will hone.
I get what you mean by fresh bread. When Laura and I were newly married we had fresh bread all the time. Now, I am often forced to purchase it to save time.
Jam always means trouble.