In an act of selflessness reminiscent of Florence Nightingale, Mahatma Ghandi, and Mother Theresa, I gave my wife the comforter that the ladies at Bluebird’s church had made for me. It is a little frayed around the edges, but I sleep under it every night. It is one of my most cherished possessions. Just because I love my wife with all my heart (and I’m more than a little afraid of her) I made the supreme sacrifice. She needed to get out of the house and wanted some new books, since she’s a voracious reader. We went to Walmart and as we were approaching the store some kid about 12 or 13 rode out the main entrance on an electric scooter and headed toward the grocery entrance like it was a go-kart. I yelled at him to stop and told him it was intended for handicapped people and not a toy. He was so stunned at being scolded, I’m guessing, that he got off of it. I rode it back to the store and plugged it in. In a perverse way, I was hoping this little prick’s parent(s) would try to find me to cuss me out for scolding their little precious. With the mood I’ve been in for awhile, I would have made it clear what I thought of their parenting skills.
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