I have to confess something. It's been niggling at my conscience but, sadly, I've been more secretly gleeful than openly remorseful. Perhaps it will help my better angels if I confess. Or, perhaps, I'm just a closet exhibitionist. You be the judge.
I poured a bowl of my son's Lucky Charms cereal, ate all the marshmallow lucky charms and--this is the really evil part--I poured the rest of the yucky cereal back in the box. I should feel bad about it, shouldn't I?
But I don't. What does that say about me? Am I a bad person, a sociopath, someone without a conscience? Have I started down the path to Pitchfork City?
I'm going to have to think about this...
...over a bowl of Lucky Charms.
Heh heh heh.