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Hello Internet! Wow, am I glad I have a blog! All this week I've been getting an earful from my sister Skyler about some... well, some interesting developments in her family. But of course, does she ever ask me what I think? Does it ever occur to her: Gosh, maybe my thoughtful and kind sister Marie might have some helpful insights? Nope.
Lucky for me, I don't need Skyler -- I have the whole internet to talk to!
I know, I can be a little too honest sometimes. Or so I've been told, although I think it's helpful to tell someone if their haircut is really unflattering -- otherwise how would they know not to go back to that salon? Honestly, some people are so touchy.
The point is, I'm not going to discuss my sister's marriage on the internet, because I realize that would not be appropriate. Instead, I am going to talk about my husband Hank's poo.
(Can you say "poo" on the internet? I guess I'm going to find out.)
You know how men think the most disgusting things in the world are funny? Well, one year for Christmas, my husband's partner Steven -- who should know better! -- gave Hank a keychain shaped like a piece of poo.
Yes, they make that. What must the Chinese think of us?
So next thing, Hank is whipping out his poo keychain everywhere we go, crowing "Get a load of this!" and generally making me wish that I could somehow be sucked into the fiery center of the Earth, instead of standing next to my husband while he shows some poor checkout lady a lump of dark brown plastic that looks almost exactly like the contents of Holly's diaper.
Now, I am not saying that I threw out Hank's poo or that I know anything about what happened to it, but let's just say, it went missing sometime around early February and despite our best efforts, has never turned up.
Personally, I don't think it was very well made, and I bet the poo just snapped off the ring. You know it was made in some sweatshop. God, what a horrible thought. Can you imagine those poor little children, starving to death and spending 12 hours a day assembling poo keychains? That might be the saddest thing I've ever heard.
What I'm trying to say is that when the chips are down, a person has to do what a person has to do, whether that's accidentally dropping a novelty keychain down the trash disposal or moving back into one's house in an attempt to repair one's marriage.
And instead of pointing fingers and talking about how it was a present from your partner -- and by the way, what kind of partner gives you a Christmas present that couldn't have cost more than $2.99? -- maybe you should just consider how much someone must love you to do something so drastic.
I mean, come on, Skyler. He threw a pizza on the roof! Doesn't that say it all?