One of the melancholy things about being an adult is realizing that if you are not too weak to stand it is really incumbent upon you to clean up your own puke. Not park or street puke — that’s what adults pay taxes for. I’m talking about in a restaurant, at your friend’s place, in your own home — places where it is tempting to curl up in a ball and feign helplessness, forcing the waitress, your friend or your significant other to do it. Sometimes you really are too sick to get up. …

Mandy Pipher

King Lear apologist; serif enthusiast; wee word-warrior. Professional writer; Toronto Star contributor. Oxford educated; Toronto based.

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