Frances And The Wagon

My Friend: "Hey. Here is the picture they finally sent me from the "Fun Run" in October. It didn't make it into the paper and I'm still bitter."

Me: "Awww. Is one of those your baby? I'd be bitter, too. Totally."

My Friend: "Yes-the one in the middle. Can't you tell? Don't you think she looks like me?"

Me: "Now that you mention it, she DOES look like you. Where did you get her fabulous "I Will Survive" sequined disco number? Very nice shade of green. The wagon is very diva-esque."

My Friend: "Oh-you are obviously not familiar with this story. If you are, you can hear it again. This was the historical society's "Fun Run" and pet parade. You could dress up your pet and pay $20 and do the one mile fun run with the kids. Well, Frances refuses to walk to the mailbox so I had the brilliant idea to put her in a wagon. She's never been in a wagon before. She decided to jump out of the wagon the minute we turned into that muddy parking lot. She fell on her head and got mud all over her white fur and her mermaid costume. Those are the sequins you see. The wagon was a complete disaster. She kept trying to jump out and finally busted her chin. I had worn these gray Capri work-out pants with a shirt and a fleece jacket. I had to wear my granny panties, which I really wanted to avoid so as not to have four butts in the workout pants. However, I was in a rush and it didn't happen. So I figured I could pull the t-shirt down far enough anyway. Well, by the end of the pet parade, I had five or six butts, I was covered in mud and in blood. My friend (the owner of the Olympic athlete bulldog) and I walked back to the car like Confederate soldiers after the war. We were trying to figure out who served alcohol at 9 am. Frances completely turned her back to me and did not acknowledge my presence for two days. I'm not kidding."