something smells fishy

every year, we do a little spring cleaning, which regularly consists of me getting rid of really old t-shirts and those jeans that i never really hoped that i'd actually wear. todd's gift to the garbage bin normally includes a stinky old pair of basketball sneakers. each year, i try to sneak our singing rubber fish by him and slide it incognito into the donate pile, but it never works. billy the bass always ends up back in the closet; it was the valentine's day gift todd actually wanted way back in 2003 or so, and i was dumb enough to shell out $9.99 at walgreens for it.

last night, we got home late, and i fed alphie and popped into bed. soon i'd be off to dream world... until i heared bobby mcferrin's voice crooning in the front hall closet--"here's a little song i wrote, you might want to sing it note for note, don't worry, be happy..."--and kitty claws scampering quickly across the hardwood floors. alphie, doing what i've always wished i had the balls to do, attacked billy the bass. and billy fought back with song. fine, billy, you can stay for now.

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