Sneezy Smitty

Mister Smitty sneezed on my foot!

The Misters were returning a bit late (6 PM) for the Smitty’s main feeding time (3:30).

“I’m shutting off the motor so we can hear the Smitty’s plaintive cooing.”
(which decodes as: “I’m hella hungry, yo. Where you been?”)

“Hi Mister Smee!” (wicked retarded waving of hands by the Misters).

“Mao!”

“Mr. Smee!”

“Mao. Mao”

“Mr. Smee”

[repeat chorus endlessly – ed.] [less sarcasm in the sweet moments, eh? – other ed.]

And then the Smitty sneezed on me.

It was a lusty, full-nosed sneeze that landed on my mostly bare Teva©-covered feet.

“Mister, now that the Smee has sneezed on me, I‘ll never wash my foot.”