this morning, when i got to work, i was in an unreasonably good mood.
it was drab and grey outside, cold inside, i was tired, hungry, late for work, and felt self-concious about the way my pants made my legs look, but other than that, i was seriously in this really good mood.
i smiled at the man on the roof, and a fly-away hair flew into my face. when i moved to brush it away, i noticed that my sleeve was damp.
and brown.
and absolutely covered in mud.
i held up my mitt.
mud, all over it.
i examined my arm, my back.
mud EVERYWHERE.
my hair, my FACE...
yup.
and i had absolutely no explanation.
or so i thought.
but upon further reflection, i realized that i had heard of this happening to someone before me.
ever heard of Robert Munsch? ever heard of that book, Mud Puddle?
yeah. (if you haven't, you really should. click here and robert munsch himself will read it to you:
http://www.robertmunsch.com/playstory.cfm?bookid=29. it's a marvelous piece of literature, and also a great comfort to those of us who have experienced the pain of being randomly and mysteriously jumped on by a mud puddle.)
scoffers, what other explanation is there?
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