Grown up

Grown up

You know, I'm within spitting distance of 30. Yet I sit, this moment, staring back at the ass end of a quandary that had been bugging me for days. Literally days. Three of them.

For the record, the Silly Putty I'd been missing was found on the window sill next to the front door. It had not slunk off the sill onto the carpet, which is fortunate. After a few minutes of squishing the putty in my fist, it was pretty much in like-new condition.

Which is good. I didn't want to have to get out into this cold and rainy night on a Silly Putty run.

I mean, I'd have to put on pants.