So, I told you about how I sometimes join in Joey’s and her chicks’ convos, more not, but I have to hear whether I want to or not.
Case in point: This morning, I learned how her chick’s bladder’s going out and how she sometimes has to go to the bathroom every hour during the night.
That’s tame, actually.
I’ve learned about rags, sex, diarrhea, etc, etc, etc…I shit (no pun intended) you not.
I try to bury myself into my laptop, but sometimes they’re so damn loud. Bless Joey, she tries to kill the convo, because A. she doesn’t want to know these people THAT intimately, and B. she knows I’m in there, held hostage, having to listen to shit I DON’T NEED TO KNOW.
OK, yeah, I know about Joey’s rags and whatnot. I’m her hubby, that comes with the territory. I need to know these things, so I can help make it better if I can.
Mo’ Floppy, not so much.
There’re things scarier than walking the streets.
Be good to each other.