Surprise!

When I roll in from work, I'm usually laden with the basics, lunch sack, armload of mail, to-go mug, gps, cell phone and whatever other accoutrement traveled with me to the 7 letter word for hell (Trenton). So with full arms I stroll to put my stuff away, or at least down before I make the arrival head call. As I bent over to place the mug down I noticed that I'd placed my boot in puke. And as I've been wearing hiking boots almost exclusively since my return from Sedona last month, I had treads full of hurl. Joy. So before throwing together some supper, my trusty plastic knife and I went to town and the treads of hurl. And not surprisingly I did not feel much like supper.