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Pedilavium - Ldy, the lemony, ligerish ducttaparian's Magic Treehouse of Lost Thoughts
A classy broad's life... with footnotes.
ldy
ldy
Pedilavium
Note: Z is my nearly-adult child, B is his (our) friend, and C is yours truly.

Just overheard from Z's room behind my office...

Z: Please excuse me, I must stop a moment to wash my feet.

Oooooookay, fine.

A few moments later...

B: I smell something really foul.
C: It's not his feet.
Z: Nope, it's not my feet.
B: What IS that?!
Z: I have NO idea.
B: Maybe it's my feet? Holy smokes. I think it IS my feet!
Z: You wanna wash your feet?
C: C'mon, Brit, all the cool kids are doing it.
B: Can I wash my feet?
Z: Sure!
Bath: *whooosh*
B: I can't believe I'm washing my feet!

I swear we don't drugs. Sometimes life would make more sense if we did.

I think I may go wash my feet now.

I'm feeling all kinds of: dorky meaningful updatey
What I hear: footwashings

1 outright lie or Tell me a story
Comments
psychoticzen From: psychoticzen Date: November 20th, 2006 06:57 pm (UTC) (permalink)
"I swear we don't drugs. Sometimes life would make more sense if we did."

It's amazing how many times that thought pops into my head.

And stinky/dirty feet can smell really foul, especially when people habitually don't where socks with their shoes...
1 outright lie or Tell me a story