Get me a red pencil!
Spent the week with friends ( namely nightgarden and The Scientist. and Scientist jr.) and Amanda's family. There was birthday cake with purple frosting and asti-spumante to drink. For the first time in a long time, "Happy Birthday" was sung where it didn't sound like a dirge. It was upbeat and fast and as cheerful as we could make it.
A's mom shoved a card into my hand. It read:
Take comfort in knowing that there is one more angle above us.
I laughed, immediately seeing 'angle' instead of 'angel'.
A's Mom: You know she's hollering for a red pencil, right?
ME: Oh no. She's knocking on doors left and right, demanding to apply to this angle position. "No, I don't want to be a stinking angel. I want to be an angle! They're in everything! Especially a right angle. I could be in buildings, everywhere! I am always right. Not an obtuse angle. That just won't do."
I take comfort in knowing that there is another angle above us.
A's mom shoved a card into my hand. It read:
Take comfort in knowing that there is one more angle above us.
I laughed, immediately seeing 'angle' instead of 'angel'.
A's Mom: You know she's hollering for a red pencil, right?
ME: Oh no. She's knocking on doors left and right, demanding to apply to this angle position. "No, I don't want to be a stinking angel. I want to be an angle! They're in everything! Especially a right angle. I could be in buildings, everywhere! I am always right. Not an obtuse angle. That just won't do."
I take comfort in knowing that there is another angle above us.