This is what I found in Grady's school folder last week. I slammed that sucker shut so fast the wind of it nearly forced that brochure to flutter to the ground. In front of all the other mothers. The one's whose children do not have pornography literature in their backpacks. I snuck another peek. Yup. That's what I thought it said. I checked again. Yup. Still says it. I'm pretty sure Grady pilfered it from the church's book rack during his class's Mass day. And stashed it in his backpack. I think he was pissed that Father Jeff told the kids to stop plucking flowers from the plants that decorate the church. So instead of plucking flowers, he plucked a pornography brochure. Take that Father Jeff.
So all this pornography stuff got me thinking about worms. It's worm season again.
They're breaking into our home. All shriveled up. Dempsey carries them around the house and then tosses them into puddles in the backyard. To freshen them up a bit. Then he preserves them in plastic baggies. Lillian and Grady hook them onto their fishing rod. And go fishing. In the beer cooler.
All this time I spend thinking about pornography and worms, got me thinking about erectile dysfunction. Or maybe it was just that damn commercial that constantly replays on my favorite Sirius radio channel. The one I listen to repeatedly. In the van. With the kids. Not even noticing that our entertainment is a commentary on dysfunctional penises. Because I'm too busy daydreaming about worms and pornography. Until one day Lillian asks, "Mom, what is ED?" Well sweetie. It's a story about worms. And how they Eat Dirt. Grady will show you the brochure.