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Feb. 22nd, 2013 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darchildreIn which I describe life with my grandmother:
So, I take Jack out for his nightly constitutional. The tiny yappy dog up the street whose owners let him run around at all hours in defiance of leash laws and common courtesy*, launches himself at us. I yell at the dog, Jack starts barking (and hiding behind me, because Jack is terrified of tiny yappy dogs) - it is no good.
We go back inside the house and I start singing a little song: "Tiny nasty dog up the streeet, someday I'm going to kick you in your faaace, I'll dropkick you into the neeeeighbooor's yaaard...**"
Granny, who is reading in the den, says, "Oh, that's all right, honey, I'm fine just sitting here - I've got my book."
Oh Granny. What conversation do you think you're responding to?
*His name is Spike, because of course it is.
**Disclaimer: I would not ever actually do these things. But they're pleasant to think about.
So, I take Jack out for his nightly constitutional. The tiny yappy dog up the street whose owners let him run around at all hours in defiance of leash laws and common courtesy*, launches himself at us. I yell at the dog, Jack starts barking (and hiding behind me, because Jack is terrified of tiny yappy dogs) - it is no good.
We go back inside the house and I start singing a little song: "Tiny nasty dog up the streeet, someday I'm going to kick you in your faaace, I'll dropkick you into the neeeeighbooor's yaaard...**"
Granny, who is reading in the den, says, "Oh, that's all right, honey, I'm fine just sitting here - I've got my book."
Oh Granny. What conversation do you think you're responding to?
*His name is Spike, because of course it is.
**Disclaimer: I would not ever actually do these things. But they're pleasant to think about.
