Yesterday, there was this guy in the grocery store. He was in the frozen foods aisle (near the fish sticks, to be exact). He was wearing a kilt. If my brain was wired to code, I wouldn't be sitting here 24 hours later thinking about the oddly dressed man. "He was wearing a kilt!" I announced. "So?" said my daughter. Moving on to what I thought might be a more receptive audience, I shared this bit of intelligence with my husband. "A kilt. That's what it was!" I announced, to which he replied in his best "placate Kris" voice, "He has huevos." A kilt, and nary a wind instrument in sight. He wasn't even visibly Scottish. Maybe he was on his way to a gig, and the bagpipes were in the car. Maybe he was hot. Or, maybe he just likes plai...
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