Why is it so easy for me to open my door and welcome new roommates into my home, time and time again? A few days ago, at the store, I saw a pile of brussel sprouts stalks, and, for the third time, I picked one up in my arms, and brought it home with me like it was a stray puppy, and now it’s living with me.
These brussel sprouts stalk roommate living situations never end well for the brussel sprouts stalk, as eventually I will dismember them, chop them up, and eat them, but there’s always hope that, for a few days, we’ll be the bestest of friends and inseparable companions. My first brussel sprouts stalk roommate contributed mightily around the house – with cleaning and organizing – before meeting the entirety of my digestive track. That stalk set a high bar that my next brussel sprouts stalk roommate didn’t even try to match – it preferred stealing my clothes and crushing my spirit to helping with housework.
I wasn’t completely soured to the idea of having another brussel sprouts stalk roommate, though, and that’s why I brought a third one home with me the other day. In the check-out line, I thought about how wonderful it would be if this stalk was more similar to my first stalk roommate than my second, but by the time I got home I knew that would not be the case. My new brussel sprouts stalk roommate spent the entire drive home escaping from the bag and rolling around my trunk. My new pineapple got free, too, and I’m not completely certain that wasn’t the brussel sprouts stalk’s doing.
Ready for your introduction? Readers, meet my new roommate. New roommate, meet my readers:
And a close-up:
Turns out the friskiness in the trunk was just the beginning. This brussel sprouts stalk is the most uncontrollable of them all, and it’s wearing me out. Every time I turn around, it’s up to no good.
So far, it’s racked up monster phone-sex charges on my landline:
It keeps wasting my toilet paper dressing up like a mummy and trying to scare me:
(For the record, it only succeeded in scaring me three times.)
Worst of all, it climbs into my bed and eats crackers, getting crumbs EVERYWHERE!
I don’t even know where it got those Cheez-Its!
Right now, I’m biding my time, smiling at my roommate and trying to be pleasant while I put up with all these shenanigans. I’d much rather clean up a few cracker crumbs than get maimed and devoured, which will happen to my dear roommate, and soon. Whenever it’s out of the room, I’m flipping through cookbooks and searching the interwebs for healthy, interesting ways to eat my new roommate. Its days are numbered. Watch your back, roommate!
Keep it up, David!