Open Mouth, Insert Foot

So, I let her rant and berate. I’m not a complete idiot. I know that if I open my mouth, I’ll just get myself in deeper.

Unfortunately for me, staying quiet means my brain goes into overdrive. I was thinking, “How could you do this?! You know how to tell them apart!” And then it hit me. (An idea, not her.)

“I get it now!” She went dead silent, surprised I had the gall to say anything. “I’m on to your trick, you little she-devil,” I chided, so proud of my ingenuity.

“My… little…” The red was coming back into her face.

“Now, now,” I laughed. “You can drop the act. I know it was really you.”

“You… It… I…”

“I know the only difference is the birthmark on your left leg.”

Have you ever seen someone get so angry, they don’t flush
red, they don’t flush purple, they go deathly pale? “Janelle’s is on her left leg,” she growled.

Remember what I said about me opening my mouth? And what I said about her being on the track team?

The doctors say I’ll be on solid foods again by next week.

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