Perhaps you should read that again. In fact, I insist you read that again.

I had intended to be back at a decent hour.  Except, you know how things go... later than usual. So, I sent a courtesy text to Big V letting him know what was up.

I arrived home to find him sitting in the comfy chair watching Rambo or Rocky or whatever movie that was.

He finally acknowledged my presence at the commercial (as if he was going to miss some key component to a movie he's seen 487 times before): So, where did you go to get tampons this late?

What?

You sent me a text saying you were stopping off to get tampons...

No, I sent you a text that said I was stopping off to get homemade tamales.

Oh.

.... Just curious, but what exactly did you think a 'homemade tampon' was?

I don't know... like maybe you needed someone to make them wider or something.

Just stop talking.

Comments

Johi said…
I'm crying. I really think that Big V and Brock might be long lost brothers.
Anonymous said…
I think I just wept a tear so big it totally needs its own homemade tampon.
Muddy Road said…
That was great! As for "homemade tampons," my wife uses them as an example of the unrealistic, overblown DIY stuff you might see on the cover of a domesticity fetish magazine:

"Elaborate Meals that You'll Never Cook! Make Your Own Tasteful Tampons with Old T-Shirts and Wallpaper Stamps!"