Near the streets Pleasant and Harmony lies a small park. A few dogs were romping there as their people chatted. White Dragon, my son, and I joined them. We'd already walked over half of the neighborhood perimeter, but the dog seemed game for a canine romp. Problem was mud. The grass, worn thin by countless dog paws, gave little protection from the dark dirt.
As the dogs ran and rolled, one of the people commented to me, "Oh, she's getting really dirty. Look at that smear."
I'm not normally witty. That's why I enjoy characters in books that have that quick come back. However, this morning I had something to say that had all the people giggling.
"Hey, yours are just as dirty. You just can see it."