I’m adding this woman’s blog to my List O’ Blogs.

When I was a kid, I used to borrow Garfield books from my friend Tricia and take them to the pool with us. After we’d scored good chairs and marked them clearly with our unicorn towels, she’d say, “Come on, let’s get in the water now,” and I’d be like, sure, yeah, definitely, just five more pages and I’ll meet you there. And then half an hour later she’d splash me to get my attention, and my first response was rage that she’d gotten her own Garfield book wet. WHAT IF IT HAD SMUDGED! This was nine-year old Sarah Brown: too busy reading about a horribly unfunny cat to join your game of Marco Polo. Sometimes I am late to work because I read my shampoo bottle in the shower. Why? Because it is there. There are words on it. The same words as yesterday morning, but that really can’t be helped. If I don’t read them, who will?

We had a bottle of green shampoo called Drama Clean in our shower for a long time last year, and it had half of a joke on it. To get the other half of the joke, you had to buy the matching conditioner. I stared at that every morning for months, reading and re-reading it.

I don’t remember what the joke was.