Nut House

Every time Mark and I leave the house, I turn to the dogs and tell them that we'll be right back. It's a lie of course. Sometimes we're gone for hours. To a dog though, it doesn't matter. If you leave for five minutes, or five days, they jump all over you when you walk back in the door. Besides, to our dogs "We'll be right back.", is probably interpreted as "We will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. Please feel free to shred as much paper as you can and pee at will."

 

It's round so the nuts can't get stuck in a corner.

Sometimes lying is of use. As a kid my mom told me that the bus driver was a policeman and if I didn't behave he would arrest me. I believed that for many years because he did have a uniform, and I remember telling my little friends at Saint George School that Chicago bus drivers were cops. They laughed at me, much the way they laughed when I told them I believed in Santa Claus. Another lie my mom used to tell me was that if I didn't stop acting so crazy (literally, I was kind of crazy) she would drop me off at the nut house. I told her that there was no such thing, that there was no house filled with crazy people. Imagine my surprise when I got older and discovered that there was a nut house. Of course nut house is a politically incorrect term. The proper term was Tinley Park Mental Health Center. I wonder if my mom knows that there is also a Tinley 'Retirement' Home?