This fox is my spirit-animal.

Do you see the epic side-eye this creature is giving? He is me. I am he, and neither of us is putting up with your foolishness this morning.

This is the look I give when management calls a mandatory meeting that has absolutely nothing to do with my life. It’s the look I give when, let’s call him, Bob, raises his hand to ask yet another bleeping question in said mandatory meeting. Stop it, Bob. I have ish to do.

It’s the look I give when someone says they don’t know something they should have known, because I knew, and this situation had little or nothing to do with my life, either. Really, Susan? You had no idea this is how things would turn out. None?! Girl, bye. You weren’t listening to anybody. Not even your own fool self, and I am not trying to hear your whining after the fact.

It’s the look I give when you try to take a crack at me on the sly. Say what you have to say about me directly to me, and lets have a conversation, or keep your comments to yourself.

It’s the look I give when you still laughing at the same joke you and I have both heard three times. Heifer, you knew what the punchline was going to be when he opened his mouth. There is no reason for you to be darn near falling out of your seat. It wasn’t that damned funny the first time.

It’s the look I give when the preacher misquotes a verse, or takes his holy hyperbole too far.

Basically, this fox is serving up the same face i have in almost every social situation. It’s why I don’t go out much.

Mr. Fox and I are over it. And we’re both hungry. And y’all done called this doggone meeting and didn’t even order donuts, or donut holes or nothing. We are going back to our den. Send us an email with the notes from the meeting, which you were going to do anyway. Thanks.

Sincerely,
Mama Radford