(Submitted by Audrey Burning, newly hired Director of Human
Resources)
 |
| Dill run amok |
Mr. Hawkinson wanted me to write about the scourge of dill
run amok in the garden. He said to treat it as a metaphor for human frailty and
lost confidence. He actually said that. (What a schmuck.) To tell you the
truth, I don’t know beans about that topic. (Between you and me, I think he has
a few flies in his ointment.) Since I was supposed to submit something, I’d
like to tell you about my cat . . .
Her name is Poopsie, and she’s been with me for many years
now.
Poor Poopsie is getting old. I had to put my foot down after
she went on my pillow. But she’s getting old. It’s heart breaking. But I can’t
let her go on my pillow. How am I supposed to get any sleep when my pillow is
soaking wet?
Now she scratches on my bedroom door in the middle of the
night. I say, “Poopsie, no-no!” She’s quiet for a while. Then the scratching
continues until I let her in. Then she goes on my slippers. I say, “Bad
Poopsie! Why would you do that when I just let you in?” She just crawls under
the bed.
Poor Poopsie. I’ve tried walking around in wet slippers, but
I’m afraid I’ll slip in the bathroom.
I just don’t know what to do . . .
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