The Sting In This Tale
(My parents come up with a clever ploy to make their young children play outside.)
Dad: “Everyone come outside for Popsicles!”
(My siblings and I gladly romp around the yard with our treats. When I finish, I try to go back inside. My parents are sitting on the porch steps, blocking the way.)
Mom: “And where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
Me: *showing her my sticky fingers* “I want to wash my hands.”
Mom: “Just wipe them on the grass.”
(I don’t think this will work well but oblige anyway. When I stand up again, there is a bee on my index finger. I think that I am like a princess with a bird perched on her finger and watch the bee in awe as it bobs there…)
Me: *suddenly stung by the bee* “WAAAAAAAH!”
(My parents let me inside after that!)
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Question of the Week
Have you ever served a bad customer who got what they deserved?
