The secret lives of old ladies
This afternoon, I was hanging out with Micah and Tyler, the world’s coolest nephews (don’t dispute it – this is a scientific fact). We went upstairs to their playroom, full of awesome, rad toys. Micah proceeded to “beat” me with a baseball bat until I was lying on the floor.
“Here, Annie, put this under your head – it’s a pillow.” Micah shoved a big cardboard block my way.
“Now open wide – here’s your medicine.” He drove a small shovel into my mouth, so far that it gagged me.
“Time for pliers.” Attaching plastic pliers to my hair, he pulled.
“Now the saw. You’re an old lady. There go your arms!” He imagined me chainsawed down to just a head.
Disturbed at his bizarre violence, I asked, “Micah, do old ladies get sawed?”
He didn’t bat an eye: “Nope. Just hammered and screwed.”