One afternoon, Grandma took the girls on a walk to the library and for ice cream afterward. At some point during the walk, Old Baby made the decision to screw around atop a rather large piece of granite (superfluous note: this place is chock full o' igneous rocks, big chunks, which is novel to those of us used to a more sedimentary type...I'm still surprised to see big boulders of the stuff lying about), and as a result fell and injured her foot/ankle area. This is the type of thing that happens almost everyday so I didn't really pay it any mind until my new next door neighbor approached me the following day after Old Baby had spent some time playing at their house.
She looked a little confused, and asked me what exactly had happened to Old Baby's foot. I told her and a look of relief washed over her face.
"Why do you ask?" I inquired, wondering where this might be going.
"Oh, it's nothing", she replied, "only that she told me earlier today that the reason that she had a boo-boo is that she had been attacked by a police dog yesterday."
My neighbor continues, "She also claims that she has a deadly allergy to watermelon." (No, she doesn't, and I'm fairly certain no one else in the world does either.)
We're still laughing about this.
Little bullshitter.
2 comments:
I remember most about this ankle injury is that I told her - don't climb on there on you will get hurt...then when she did it was not so bad until she saw the blood (half a block down). Oh my gosh, the lady at the ice cream store was about to report me to child protective services when Old Baby starting wailing in front of the store. The volume was such you would have thought a police dog WAS gnawing on her foot. And everyone at the counter gave me such dirty looks,I am sure they though I had just smacked her. I think she should join the drama club.
Oh, I forgot, after all this happened I tried to kill her by buying her some watermelon sorbet.
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