While on the phone with Li'l Dill this afternoon:
Dill: So, my Grampa rolled up his sleeve to show me his old Navy tattoo and -- wait, wait, there's a rabid squirrel! There's a rabid squirrel coming towards me.
Me: Run, Dill, run!
Dill: I swear, it's a rabid squirrel. [calling to friend/co-worker/neighbor B.B.] Hey, B.B., come on out here, there's a rabid squirrel, you gotta see it, and, wait, it's not there anymore, but I swear it was, oh, dang it, this is going on the blog, B.B., I can feel it.
{a few minutes later}
Dill: So, then he says "If I ever find out that you got a tattoo, I'd --" There it is again! B.B., there it is again! Look, it came right over this way, and under here and, well, it's not there anymore, but it was, I swear, you gotta believe me.
B.B.: You're the boy who called squirrel.
Dill: And that's going to be the name of the blog post.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
The Boy Who Cried Squirrel
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2 comments:
Sounds to me like "tattoo" is some kind of rabid squirrell trigger word. Or, perhaps Dill has been hypnotized at some point to see rabid squirrells when he hears the word "tattoo". Either way, you could have a lot of fun with this......
And I can hear the squirrel in my head: "Look at meeee...I'm a craaazy rabbit squirrel!"
Did Dill by any chance have a cookie in his hand?
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