When I was little, tic-tacs were like the jackpot of candy goodness. Of course, only the orange flavored ones were worth anything, but when you got them… oh boy.
It wasn’t just that they were delicious candy, because they were. What I liked best was the little plastic box. I have vivid memories of being an explorer in the Amazonian rainforest, with just the one little box of water left to sustain me to the next stream. I’d fill the box from the hose and I would carefully dole out the water to myself as I tromped through the trees, flipping up that little white tab to get a few drops of water.
I’m wearing pants with a lady on the butt, which makes them awesome. The front pockets are fake, though, which makes me sad.
Yesterday I was chewing on a pen as I edited a draft of a peer’s story. It was a click-pen, and the cap had gotten caught so that it was depressed permanently… or so I thought. The plastic plunger popped back and smacked me in the front tooth, chipping it.
That’s right. I chipped my tooth with a plastic pen.
It doesn’t hurt much, but it itches down inside now.
I started up with a new razor blade today and it cut up my leg like you wouldn’t believe.
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