“As a child, I would dig up bits of clay from the local sandbox. It wasn’t as good as Play-Doh, so I would cast it aside and continue digging. Maybe I didn’t have a very good sense of smell at that age because I was well into adulthood before I realized it was probably cat shit.”


“As a cute memory thing, my mom did a tape recording of me telling her about my first day of school. I very enthusiastically recounted my tale of finding a stick on the playground and picking it up but it was actually dried dog doo-doo and the recess monitor made me wash my hands. Precious memory tape = kind of ruined.”


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