Are You Small?

I just got the following email from Lil D. (AKA Baby Hitler).

“Do you know why the coffee table is in a weird place?”

I looked over, and sure enough, the coffee table had been moved slightly closer to the wall than before. Being the logical person that I am, I quickly deduced that the cleaning people must have moved it when they vacuumed over the weekend. I told her so, ignoring the overwhelming urge to be a snarky bastard about it. She wrote back:

“Can you move it back when you get a chance?”

Um…I CAN. But why didn't YOU move it when you noticed it, seeing as how it's bothering you so much, you little Obsessive/Compulsive beyotch. I know you're a 90lb weakling with negative booty, but the coffee table probably weighs 20lbs tops as it is from Costco.

But of course I WILL move the coffee table. Because that's apparently in my job description, right under “erecting cubicles”, “cleaning the coffee pot”, and “picking up the newspaper from the floor”. (That's right…if anyone gets here before me…rare, but it happens…they will LEAVE THE NEWSPAPER IN THE DOORWAY).



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