And, that reminds me of another thing about my childhood…the stiff cots I used to be forced to lay on at [insert daycare name] at regular intervals throughout the day.
Not only were the unassigned vinyl cots gross, but they had no support whatsoever. I weighed less than a fully-clothed Barbie™ but my ass could still feel the dusty, brown tiled floor below me that was covered with food crumbs and children’s tears.
Oh, ya…my point.
I put on my medium-starched shirt this morning; apparently “medium” indicates that you are a dead man and would like your shirt to resemble the stiffness caused by rigor mortis.
I go outside…it’s cloudy, but not raining. Then, as I arrive at work, the rain begins to fall, softening my sharp, stiff starched shirt.
It’s bright green.
