While out walking Thing 1 and Thing 2 this morning (or perhaps I should call them Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber), another poor soul with two dogs walked by about a quarter of a block away.
Since Kirby, the adopted dog from the Cloquet Shelter, thinks I am indeed a Goddess and I do indeed own the world (he failed to get that memo on division of responsibilities), and I of course OWN every street in Lakeside, he went APE SHIT!
From being at the end of his leash heading east, he whipped around and not only headed west, but a little northwest.
That's when my hand holding his leash landed squarely in the middle of my own gut.
Yes, I sucker punched myself this morning. Thankfully, it was on a well populated street so that I not only made an ass of myself in public, I will be famed in song and story as the "Lakeside Woman Who Took Her Own Breath Away".
Instead of being a story about a frequent shopper at Smitten Kitten, it will instead be a sad sorry tale of a woman who punches herself in the stomach and then spends five minutes holding onto a tree, gasping for breath, and checking to see if she has started to spit up blood.
Right after that, she straps on her helmet and climbs aboard the short bus.
I am so glad it's Friday.