Emails from Dad:
Dad: Beware of casserole. I've crapped twice and wiped 20 times. I walk like I've been riding a horse all day.
Me: (no response)
Dad: Make that three times and I could seriously use a tampon.
Me: Huh, I’ve been good so far. But now you have me scared.
Dad: I don't think it was the sweet-tarts or almonds I ate last night. Might be the Wal-Mart salsa. I didn't heat mine to kill the bacteria.
Me: Still haven’t touched that stuff. I’ve had two string cheeses and a bunch of sunflower seeds. Did I say I was going to lift weights last night?
Dad: Yes, that's why you left early. Wanted to get it over so you'd have Saturday free. Butthead has her first Calculus test tonight.
Me: I took a nap at 8:30, woke up at midnight, took out my contacts and went back to bed.
Dad: Ok, fourth time. Feels like I've been wiping with steel wool. I should move to Florida, cuz I think I have a hanging chad.
Now you know where I get it from. I’m not the only mad crapper in the family.
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