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I wish I was a marsupial. Preferably one who has the power to shrink loved ones. If I was a marsupial, I’d carry Satch around in my tummy pocket all day. And I’d shrink my dad down and put him in there to keep Satch company. Satch’s purring would send healing vibrations through me – especially when I have cramps – and my dad would keep me laughing hysterically with puns. And both of them would give me snuggles when I’m sad. Granted, as a marsupial, I’d probably have more fur to contend with, but I’m pretty good at shaving and waxing, so I think that’d be a reasonable price to pay. Or I could embrace my dirty inner hippy and just let it grow out. I heard the other day that people are doing that and dyeing their armpit hair now. No really, that’s a thing.

I should really consider sewing a pocket onto my stomach now, for Satch, but I haven’t figured out how to shrink my dad down yet (or get him back to the point mentally where he can shout all those puns up to me), so it feels a little premature to take that step with a needle and thread. I also have to figure out the best way to clean inside my tummy pocket. Given the fact that belly button lint exists, I can only imagine the dust bunnies that would hide in the corners of my pocket, making Satch and my dad sneeze. I think I’d have to dry clean it or something, because Satch doesn’t really like getting wet. Really, I’d have to dry clean my whole body, because showering could present problems. What if my pocket got wet and shrunk? I mean, Satch and Dad like to snuggle up close, but no one wants to feel squished.

These are serious considerations. You know what else I should seriously consider doing today? Some actual, bona fide work. Or maybe I should consider drinking some bourbon. Decisions, decisions.

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