Friday, January 7, 2011

The Puppy Jar

I am seriously considering buying a nice, clear container to set in a place of prominence for when guests come over.  When they see it, and the myriad of amazing bits it contains they will ask with awe and wonder,

"Why, whatever is that jar for?"

"That old thing?" I will answer with calculated nonchalance.  "Oh really, it's nothing."

"No, no," they will press me, like children.  "Tell us why does it contain such bizarre items?"

"It is merely a puppy jar," I shall respond, fixing a cold eye on them, much like a preying hawk.

"Tell us, tell us," they will insist.  "What is a puppy jar?"

"It is every thing my delightful bargain bin puppy has put in his mouth, and that I have had to pull out."  I will point to the pine needles, liberally littering the bottom.  "Christmas," I shall say, waving a hand dismissively.  I will offer up the knowledge of every bit of plastic, toilet paper, bottle cap, napkin (and so forth) that my puppy has managed to unearth from the bowels of my supposedly clean home.

"That," I will answer, finally, with an air of triumphant scorn, "is a puppy jar!"

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