Mommy's pretending to be all concerned right now but I'm sure that once she is sure I'm okay then I'll really hear about it.
I threw up a sock in the living room.
I know I wasn't supposed to eat it, but it was in the laundry pile and it smelled sooooooo good. She thought she took it away from me this morning, but I had two. She got the one I didn't swallow yet.
On the way down it tasted so good. On the way back up...not so much.
Why can't I control myself? Swallowing socks NEVER ends well for me. And it's even worse when they come out at the "end" of the journey. But when a juicy, smelly, dirty sock is in my path I can't stop myself. I must eat it. Why don't I ever remember that it's not worth it?
Take care all, and don't eat your own socks! Or your friends' socks either.
Rudy, with the very sore tummy at the moment, who is still looking into the Witness Protection Program
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