Austin
& I use clothespins to keep our plastic bags in place in the
trashcan. As I was pushing the trash down to add more, I heard the
snap of the clothespin. Sure it enough, it disappeared. I refused to
root through the trash for it, but I did a fair job of searching the
floor and surrounding area.
Me: I hate that.
Austin: It's fine. They're cheap.
Me: I know. I got one hundred for two dollars.
Austin: See, cheap. There are so many different clips and colors and things. I'm glad we use plain old clothespins.
Me: The colored ones are more expensive.
Austin: Good. We don't need colored ones.
Me: I thought you'd like colored ones.
Austin: No way. Then someone would accuse of us being racist. You know someone would say, "Hey, look at all those happy faces on the yellow ones. You think all Asians are happy all the time?"
Me, smirking.
Austin: Your mother would be the first one to complain. She'd say the red ones are Indians. And the black ones--
Me: I hate that.
Austin: It's fine. They're cheap.
Me: I know. I got one hundred for two dollars.
Austin: See, cheap. There are so many different clips and colors and things. I'm glad we use plain old clothespins.
Me: The colored ones are more expensive.
Austin: Good. We don't need colored ones.
Me: I thought you'd like colored ones.
Austin: No way. Then someone would accuse of us being racist. You know someone would say, "Hey, look at all those happy faces on the yellow ones. You think all Asians are happy all the time?"
Me, smirking.
Austin: Your mother would be the first one to complain. She'd say the red ones are Indians. And the black ones--
Me:
The color pack doesn't have black ones.
Austin:
See, racist. Nah, I like the plain ones, that I can customize myself.
And that burned one, he's become my favorite.
In case you forgot:
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