I took my kids to Chik Fil A for a quick dinner. I didn't get around to making the chicken artichoke dish I had planned. Hubster left early for a meeting and I wasn't going to go through all that trouble for myself and the kids would have hated it anyway.
When we got to Chik Fil A, it was utter mayhem. It was....Kids Night. I wouldn't have stayed but we got 2 kids meals for free. I'm cheap. That and my children spotted a clown. As we were waiting for the balloon twisting Bojangles to make his way over to our table, I contemplated a career in clowning. I figure if I don't pass the biggest exam of my life, it would be a flexible career to fall back on. I'd just need a good clown name...like Stretch (because I'm tall)....and some mad balloon twisting skills. I could pick that up in no time.
When I was working at a children's hospital during nursing school, I had wished I knew how to make animals from twisting and folding towels. Weird, I know. But I thought it would be fun for the kids. Like being on a cruise, except not really. When we set up rooms for new admits, the patients got 3 washcloths and 3 bath towels. We'd leave a pile of towels sitting on the counter next to a tiny pink box of kleenex and a yellow puke basin. I always thought it would be cute to have a frog or a swan or an elephant sitting there instead. I could hear the parents' "awwws" as I envisioned the kids smiling and pointing with excitement.
Unfortunately, the only thing I know how to make with a towel is a penis. Classy I know. It was a skill I picked up working in a bar for 6 years as a waitress. I can't remember the joke that accompanied folding the towel....but the ability to make the penis still lingers.
I don't think the parents would have appreciated that.
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