Sunday, October 10, 2010

Lament to a hotdog

Hot dogs, you never saw it coming.

It was the middle of the night when the bright light awakened you from your slumber, fingers rummaging, looking for a drink. You never had a chance.  Hot dogs are his favorite.  I'm sorry he didn't just take one.  Or two.  But three of you...gone.  Well, okay, really two and a half.  I found the disfigured third, half-way gnawed off under his bed.  The bed he should have been sleeping in.  All night.  But no, new-found freedom of a bed without rails could not contain his midnight excitement from you.

I'm just so sorry.

1 comment:

Jewel said...

Ha ha ha, what a creative post! I was sorry to miss you @ church last Sun.! We were home sick!