best served cold

My friends' kids, initially useless to me, have over time become indispensable conduits for annoying my friends. From Henry's drum set to Annalie's Steelers cap, the kids have become willing co-conspirators in my efforts to punish my friends for having had kids.

And thus did I take Silly String to Terrell's house last Saturday. It sprayed in all directions, into every orifice and crevice, and her girls could not have loved me more. "John, why would you DO something so horrib-"

Terrell stopped there, having apparently come up with the answer for herself. "Here, let mommy see it for a second," she said to the younger, more gullible child. And then I watched Terrell entomb my nearby iPhone in Silly String, like Cheez Whiz on a cracker, if you were trying to mummify the cracker by making sure no air could ever get to it again. Or cheese, for that matter.

The one and only button doesn't work right anymore, either.