Tuesday, November 9, 2010
My only options are writing a letter to the child that pulled my hair too hard while giving me a great comb through (which I forced the child to do). Or.....this bread bowl.
Dear Bread Bowl,
You crusty little sucker with your pious smirk. Your insides are soft and delicious. You hold things I greatly desire; chicken salad, creamy soups. You tempt me despite the high caloric intake. My weakness for you is repaid with your injurous crust slicing through my tender thumb. You will live long enough to regret this....as I rip you piece by piece to feed to the birds off of the pier.