Conversations from my deck

The back of my house borders fifteen acres of woods; and if the weather is nice sitting on our deck in the cool of evening can be quite pleasant.

Me: For some reason, every time I look at those woods I half expect to see a zombie lumbering out of the underbrush.

Friend 1: You know, if that happened, I’d probably take a dump right here in my pants.

Me: I’d probably dash up to my closet, briefly pausing at the top of the stairs to thank the Lord that the day I’d long prepared had finally arrived.

Friend 2: What would we use to board up the sliding glass door?

Mrs. Ahab: The dining room table could work pretty well, and we could use the wood from the deck to board up the windows.

Friend 2: Would I have time to go back and get my cats?

Me: Rule Number 1 of a Zombie Apocalypse: No returning for pets.

I don’t remember what we talked about after that, but that’s why I love our friends. A conversation about the eventual Zombie Apocalypse fits quite nicely into regular conversation.

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