what was that? is that all there is? who is this? this is it.

Aw, mom, you know I’m not like other guys. I’m nervous and my socks are too loose…and I stepped in dogshit.

Mom proceeds to try and scrape the shit off junior’s boot with a dainty little straw from Monorail. Successfully removing a small pile of it right in the middle of my office.

Kid, you’re wearing boots, you stepped in shit, big deal. That’s what boots are for. Walk it off. The most traumatic part of the whole experience for you has probably been us ridiculing you, taking pictures, laughing.

When I was your age, there were no leash laws, no poop bags, no worries about all the kids on the field that might slide tackle in that Irish Setter’s shit at tomorrow’s soccer practice. We’ve all stepped in shit. Whatever. It’s how you handle the next step that distinguishes you. If your mom sits you down and tries to clean you up with the straw from her iced latte…that’s not just dog shit, that’s horseshit.

It’s OK kid, just walk it off. It’s not your fault, but you have to live with it.

2 Comments

When I was a kid, I had to scrape the shit off my own shoes. There were no cushy plastic straws either. We had to find a stick. Come to think of it, if we had straws it would have resulted in shit spaghetti some where along the way.

too classic.

Add Comment

Your Name: (Required)

Comment:

Please enter the 4 to 6 character security code:

(This is to prevent automated comments.)