Bad Day

You know it’s going to be a bad day when you get woken up by the dog, crawling under the bed, because it’s raining hard outside and she thinks it’s going to thunder.

You know for sure it’s going to be a bad day when, walking through the trolley-stoppers (i.e. fairly narrow “one person at a time” walkways) you get run into by three-year-old hellspawn, and then blamed by the mother for walking into the little shit…