Thursday, February 14, 2013
After my mom's surgery she was told she would need a stool softener because the medications she was on would make it difficult for her to poop. When I went grocery shopping with my father, he insisted on calling it a stool sampler. I didn't correct him, because a) it was hilarious and b) I didn't want to deal with the inevitable fight that occurs whenever I point out he's wrong.
For V- Day today, I was given a Whitman's Sampler of chocolates. Now I can't eat them.
You figure out why.
And now, my Valentine to each and every one of you. It's got something for everyone, I think.
You, ah, might not want to open it at work. Or around children. Or other people.
Happy Valentine's Day!
The Fine Print
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