When I was two years old (actually this may be my earliest memory) my mother was preparing me to take a bath -- my father had already gotten into the tub. It was a custom that my father and I bathed together quite frequently when I was young. My mother would help wash us and everything was honky-dory (as I feel this is good father/son bonding time.)
When my mom went to put my in the tub I started screaming and trying to wriggle out of her arms. Neither of my parents could understand why I was raising such a tantrum over taking a bath. They also couldn't calm me, as I then tried to get my father to get out of the bath, You see, I thought that the turtle that was in the tub was going to bite me or him -possibly both of us.
Yeh, we still have laughs about that one. It certainly wasn't green, but that fucker was moving its head about and there was NO WAY you were getting me into that bath tub.
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-LIFE IS ABSURD-
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