Katie is six and she was bad today and her teacher gave her a citation which is an I Was Bad note to take home to her mom. Katie worries about mom's reaction. Katie asks me what I think mom will do.

I say Probably roast you on a spit. Katie says what is a spit. I say It is a pointy stick and she will stick it in your belly and cook you over an open flame till you are all juicy and delicious.

Katie says Yeah, right. What do you really think she'll do? I say Hmm. Really? Well really I think she will probably never let you eat ice cream ever again. Yeah. That sounds right. Actually I think I'll suggest that to her, in case she doesn't think of it herself.

Katie cries.

Evil Rating: 5 of 10. Maliciousness with attempt to upset. Success. Katie is a dork anyway.

I sometimes eat at this cafeteria near my house. Yeah, I'm an old fart. Make fun of my plaid pants, but don't knock the fried okra at this place.

There's this guy who's older than me (can you imagine that?) who eats there almost every day with his wife. She's had a stroke, and walks with a cane. She's paralyzed on one side, but can still get around. And the smile she has on her face is just a wonder to behold. (Would you be smiling like an angel if this had happened to you?)

I don't know these people, but I've seen them many times. Today I was right behind them in line to pay as we were leaving. He looked out the plate glass window and said, "Damn," under his breath. I looked, too, and saw that his Buick (parked in the handicapped spot right in front, for her) had a flat tire on the back.

He told his afflicted wife about it and, after he paid, helped her to sit down on the bench inside the front door while he went to change the tire. His manner with her was loving and soothing. She sat down and smiled at the wall.

As I was walking behind him out the door, he was saying, "Damn, damn, damn," over and over to himself. I followed him to his car and said, "Here, let me do this for you. Go back in there and stay with her and I'll change the tire."

He looked at me as if I was a man from Mars. Here was a guy, only a few years younger than him, offering help as if he were in a nursing home needing a bath. "No, that's OK. I can do it."

He didn't mean it. He was nicely dressed with stuff to do later this afternoon. I was in a pair of shorts and obviously slacking off (as I'm prone to do, more and more, thank you very much E2).

So I pressed the issue and said, "Oh, c'mon. I need to take a shower later, anyway. And you've got enough trouble taking care of your wife in there."

So, I changed the tire, but he wouldn't let me do it all by myself. He helped tighten the nuts when we got done. During the process, he told me about what had happened to his wife and how it had changed their lives. I almost cried.

Oh, what? This was supposed to be about something evil you'd done today? Ooops. Sorry.

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