I ran into Pumpkin Face coming out of school. He’s the terror kid who hit me on the shin with the grim reaper’s scythe at the Halloween party for our children and went on to terrorize everybody for three hours.
Well, he stopped me and said, “Can I come over to play.”
“Well, not today,” I said.
“Tomorrow?”
“Well, maybe.”
My wife overheard the conversation and came up and pulled me away. She said, “I’d rather eat my own sick than let him come over.”
Me too.
