Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
Lately I've heard rumors that some people think I'm stuck up. I don't understand. Just because I sprinkle my conversations with French phrases and speak with a bit of a British accent and name drop occasionally? I mean, really. Everyone wants to hear about my dinner with Brangelina and the kiddies.
How many kiddies were there? I'm not sure . . . uh . . . they moved so fast I couldn't count them.
Sacre bleu! I am not stuck up!
Wait a minute.
Elvis Aaron Schwarz just explained to me that people don't think I'm stuck up. They heard I got stuck BEHIND something.
I want to begin by saying that I didn't get stuck because I'm chubby. At the time, I was very, very thin.
It was kind of like an episode of I Love Lucy. The dryer hose had come loose from the vent. I needed to put it back on. Dr. X was out of town, and I wasn't strong enough to move the washer or dryer.
Thus, I wiggled behind the washing machine, and voila! I put the hose in its place. Gave it quite a tongue lashing.
But then, of course, I wanted to come out from behind the washer.
And I couldn't. I was stuck.
I squiggled. I giggled. But then the giggle stopped. I really was caught!
How could I get behind an appliance but not be able to get back out?
What would happen when it was time to get the children from school?
Fortunately, I knew what to do. I could make myself even skinnier by sucking in my stomach until it touched my spine. I diggled my way out. I tweren't no piggle.
I wasn't really stuck all that long -- just long enough to give me a story to tell.
And now that I've told it, I'll turn my attention, once again, to Elvis Aaron Schwarz.
Cuddle up and give me a kiss, baby.
Infinities of love,