Freakishly Close

I met my sister at the dog park yesterday morning. We spent over an hour together. Afterwards, having just said goodbye to each other in the parking lot at Piedmont Park, I picked up the cel phone to call my sister as I pulled out of the lot. I had forgotten to mention something very important to her.

Her: Hey. What is it?
Me: I haven't talked to you in a while, and I missed you.
Her: We should talk more often.
Me: I know. So, did you see that mutant mutt dog? I mean, I am a dog lover, but that was the ugliest thing I have ever seen.
Her: I thought he was cute! Like a Bassett raped by a pit bull.
Me: Seriously, that dog looked ridiculous.
Her: He can't help it that he looks that way.
Me: I know. I would take his ugly brindle ass home anyway.
Her: Me too.
Me: Okay, bye.
Her: Bye. Oh, wait! Are you coming over?
Me: Yeah, I'll meet you at your house.

So, it has been mentioned before that we are very close to one another. My friend Harris might have used the words, "Freakishly close" to describe our relationship. I don't give a shit. Everything in my life is better when shared with my sister. Even unfortunate mutt rape victims. I couldn't not call her and talk about it. Does an ugly mutt at the dog park exist if I don't call my sister? Yes. But it's way more fun if i call her about it.