Last weekend my husband, D, my little sister, Velma, and myself drove up to Sandusky, OH to jump on some of the wildest roller coasters around. Aaahhh, Cedar Point. Who can resist?
Anyhow, on the drive up we suddenly came upon a terrible stench. And a terrible stench like this by the side of the highway can only mean one thing. I'll give you a hint: Black and white and striped and stinky. Ugh.
So we come upon this terrible stench and Velma leans up from the back seat of the car where she has been relaxing, crinkles her nose and says:
"I think somebody hit a shark!"
I look back at Velma, and promptly start laughing my ass off:
Velma: "Don't they have the same number of letters?"
Me: (counting on fingers while mouthing the spelling of 'shark' & 'skunk') "Yeah"
Velma: "Good, I couldn't think of the word. I was trying to spell squirrel."
Ahhh, Velma, I love you.
Two days later we head back to Fort Fun. My husband is driving and we pass a black and white striped furry thing dead on the side of the road.
D: "Hey, look, there's a shark back there!"
Velma: "What?! Where?! How'd a shark get on the highw... oh, a shark."
I think I'm going to get her Jaws for Christmas.