Why is it that…..
Every time I need to plug something into a wall socket in the dark in a hurry that I always find the socket…but it’s always the wrong way?
Why is it that…..
I can drop a piece of the wife’s fine china and it survives with a small, dull, “thunk”….but if I accidentally drop an empty salsa jar it shatters in 5.3 Million pieces---some of them finding their way into other rooms and nooks & crannies that even defy the angles of billiards?
Why is it that…..
That I can take a call of nature, and while not pleasant, is tollerable….yet a baby or grandbaby’s dirty diaper smells like the zebra exhibit at the zoo and needs four or five guys in HAZMAT suits to dispose of it? I don’t remember feeding her four bales of hay and a bushel of corn!
Why is it that…..
Every year I spend HOURS winding the holiday lights onto home made wooden forms with precision….yet the following December, they are all helplessly, hopelessly tangled into giant rat’s nests of wire resembling a ball of yarn? Are there people who’s job it is is to break into people’s attics when they aren’t home and screw up their decorations?
Why is it that…..
That horrible, sinking, depressing feeling always strikes AFTER I hear the tight, crisp, sound of my car door closing and turn to see my keys still in the ignition----and not BEFORE?
Why is it that…..
If a giant dumptruck (with no tarp, mind you) throws a rock and breaks my windshield that “HE” is not responsible? Yet, if YOU throw a rock and break HIS windshield you have a raving, psycho-road-rage freak chasing you down the road waving a 9mm out the window?
Or, maybe this stuff only happens to me.
ROX
