. . . Little Jellyfish

Recently, a friend and I were sitting in her hot tub outside on a beautiful autumn evening. She and I found ourselves in a moment of peaceful quiet when I decided to let her know how much her friendship meant to me.

Me: “I just wanted to let you know that if you ever got stung by a jellyfish, I would pee on you.â€Â
The Cake Maker: *without missing a beat* “Awww, thanks. And I would pee on you, too.â€Â
*enormous thought-filled pause*
Me: “Although, it would be kind of hard.â€Â
The Cake Maker: “What do you mean?â€Â
Me: “Ya know, to like get in a position where the pee would come out in a straight line on a specific target. I mean, boys do it, but their anatomy is designed for that sort of thing. Ours just . . . well, I think it would be a messy situation. Runny and . . . runny.â€Â
The Cake Maker: “Maybe, but you do yoga, so I’m sure you’d be find a successful position.â€Â
Me: “Yeah, but what about you?â€Â
The Cake Maker: *she pauses, and then shakes her head* “I’m gonna pop a squat, concentrate real hard, and hope for the best.â€Â
*another enormous thought-filled pause*
Me: “We are talking about you peeing on me, you realize.â€Â
The Cake Maker: “You’re looking at it the wrong way: we’re talking about me saving your life.â€Â
Me: “ . . . well, thanks, I guess.â€Â
The Cake Maker: “What’re real friends for if not to pee on you?â€Â

True story.

Further proof that fact is better than fiction.