Paybacks are a b*tch. Lady Karma has finally caught up with me. Just call me “Earl” from My Name is Earl.
I love lots of ice in my water. I mean lots of ice. As in, I like a little water with my ice.
When I was young, my tiny little hands just could not grab the amount of ice I wanted in my cup. Inevitably an ice cube or two ended up on the kitchen floor.
And I didn’t always pick it up.
- Sometimes I was just so thirsty that I forgot about the ice cube.
- Sometimes I didn’t know where it went.
- Sometimes I was just lazy.
Eventually the ice cube would melt, and the next person in the kitchen ended up with a cold, wet foot. And “Son of a…!” would echo through the house, causing me to giggle.
The best was when someone had socks on. Because if you’re like me, wet socks are quite possibly the worst feeling in the world. ::shudder::
Since I live alone, I have to pick up the ice because I’m the only person who will end up with wet socks.
But I don’t really live alone. There’s always Esme…aka Karma.
My cat Esme loves seeing someone else with wet socks as much as I do. But she does it better than I ever did.
I have several tiny toy mice around the apartment for her to play with. When she’s done playing, she drops them in her water dish, and then leaves them randomly strewn about the kitchen.
For me to step on.
Like this morning. When I sleepily shuffled into the kitchen, I stepped on a cold, wet, squishy toy mouse.
Well played, Esme. Well played.