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Can of Toast
I found a can of toast today. It was sitting on the
side of the walk where my newspaper used to land
back before the paper boy figured out I was never
going to pay him.
Since I was hungry, and had only a tin of sardines in
the cupboard, the finding seemed fortuitous.
I looked all over the house for a can-opener, then
realized, being a sardine and Spam guy, I'd grown
dependent on the key, and never purchased one.
I did find a nice, sharp knife on my foray, that I
thought would do. I held the can steady between my
knees and I pulled back my arm, knife in fist, to
swing hard. I stabbed the can directly in its center.
I was so proud to have hit a mark so well and
perfectly without even trying that I stood and danced
a little jig.
Unfortunately, I am not the king of rythym, but AM the
king of Klutz, so I fell face forward.
The knife was dislodged from my forehead without much
mishap.
I think the paperboy has it out for me and put the can
there on purpose. Maybe I'll pay up.
