Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Don't Mess With My Stuff

I saw something this past weekend in the grocery store that triggered a faint, distant memory of a time when revenge was exacted without my even trying.

They have reissued a product that consists of "flavored" straws. The straws have a flavor core of chocolate or strawberry or banana and the idea is to use them with a glass of milk and have the milk flavored as it flows upward through the straw. The same product existed way back in time, like the early sixties. I can remember that I was fond of the chocolate straws.

There was a day when I had a box of chocolate straws and for some reason I acquired a handful of colorful plastic toothpicks that I thought were kind of neat. Needing a place to carry the toothpicks (I don't think we were at home at the time), I put them inside the box of straws.

My youngest uncle decided later that day to purloin one of my chocolate straws without, I might add, seeking my permission to do so. As chance would have it, he picked a straw that had caught one of the toothpicks inside it. As he slurped his first swig of milk, he ended up with a toothpick in his mouth.

Yes, in retrospect I'm glad he did not choke or swallow the thing. He was highly indignant that I had created such a dangerous situation. For my part I felt very little remorse. I knew the toothpicks were in there and they were my straws. He was the one in the wrong as far as my little 8- or 9-year-old self was concerned.

It's always been my belief that justice will prevail. Sometimes sooner and sometimes later. But you steal my stuff, you will pay in the end.


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