On Sunday it was damp and that means the fleas jump out of the grass. Either I brought one in or there was one in the temple because during the homily in the temple I started to scratch my ankles. Any flea would find me. No, I could not flee either.
Reader beware: This blog mixes truth and fiction. Names are routinely changed. Persons may be composites. If you think the person is you and you feel offended, it is most likely fiction. Then again, if the shoe fits.....
