Today was Boudreaux's NINTH BIRTHDAY! Holy crap?!? How did he get nine years older when I am still a spry and limber 25 years old?!? Move over virgin birth! I've got a new miracle to proclaim: I ain't growin' up!
So on to our story...
For Boudreaux's birthday, we went to the zoo. There we were, in front of the tiger cage, at the very end of our lengthy visit. One male tiger was in front of us and turned around to go to the back of the cage.
Rufus: "What is that on his back?"
Bumpus, immediately sensing danger: "Stripes."
R: "No, I mean at the end of his tale."
B: "He has stripes all the way to the end of his tail."
R, persistent: "No, I mean at the other end of his tail, near the top, right under his tale...sticking out just underneath his tail."
Bumpus gets it over with: "That's his junk."
Fatty, singing to The Black Eyed Peas, along with some sort of little shuffling dance movement: "Hey Tiger, whatcha gonna do? whatcha gonna do with all that junk? all that junk outside yo trunk?"
Rufus, in his own wisdom: "We shouldn't discuss this topic in public any more."
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