Kickass spills the milk

Kickass, the doorstop dog, reports that for a very brief moment yesterday as the world seemed about to be taken over by dung beetles, the all-is-lost feeling was suddenly totally erased for the keeper, and he experienced an unexpected reprieve from obsessive preoccupation with political chaos and absurdity.

He—the keeper had just sat down before his farmer breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, etc, and was reaching for the remote to tune in MSNBC for news of the latest outrage, when he somehow bumped his requisite full glass of milk, which tipped over onto and into his breakfast plate, splashed down over the side of the table and saturated his lap.

While the keeper’s vocabulary is up to such unexpected situations, his reaction time may not be, and he sat there for a second or two, commenting appropriately while taking in the totally disastrous breakfast scene.

Then he got up from the dripping table, took off his milk-soaked jeans and hung them on a chair, retrieved a spoon from the kitchen, and sat back down to eat his plate of visually unappealing scrambled-egg soup and soggy milk-toast.

Phyllis happened to come into the room at this point, and observing the keeper sitting pant-less at the table before a milky mess, she expressed appropriate sympathy, which made the keeper feel slightly better, but not by much.

But there had been that interlude, however brief, when there had been no thoughts about the current political insanity.  By way of prolonging that circumstance, Kickass suggests that the keeper switch from MSNBC to PBS where they show morning cartoons; and he advises the keeper not to cry over spilled milk because there are so many other things that really need to be cried about.





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