I didn’t realize this when I lived in California drought, but every time it rains I remember being in Rome on our Honeymoon. It was pouring, we were soaked and running, on our way back to the hotel from the Colosseum. Across the street, there’s an older woman standing in the rain facing her family who are huddled together under a coffee shop’s awning. She’s pointing pointedly at the Colosseum, just two blocks away.

Probably her husband, exhausted: “I know, but we don’t have umbrel — “

Woman: “WE’RE NOT MADE OF SUGAR!”

This isn’t anything. I just remembered it and wanted to write it down, and now I have, and I just realized that your cellphone might beep to let you know that I wrote this, and for that I am sorry, but you are not made of sugar.

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