Thursday, March 30, 2006

Put some jam on the fetus.

Today I was relating a story of no importance to my sister.

And then suddenly it took a odd turn.

What follows is the gist of our conversation.

Me: So this woman comes into the bakery with a little tiny baby, four weeks old.

Her: Yeah?

Me: Yeah, so anyway, this baby was wicked tiny
(we're from Boston, we say wicked)

Her: Yeah?

Me: Kinda it looked like a fetus really. It was that small.

Her: Spread some jam on the fetus.

Me: What?

Her: Yeah, spread some jam on the fetus, make it look newborn.

Me: Well, it was crying to beat the band.

Her: Probably because it was sticky. From the jam.


This is the kind of conversations we have when she is sleepy and I am sugar deprived.


Anonymous said...

You are out of control....from your long lost mother.

Miss. Von Schtoop said...


Anonymous said...

Jam? Fetus? Jam on fetus? Oh dear...