My dad recently sent me some manuscripts of a new book he’s writing.
Dad: Did you get a chance to read what I’ve sent you so far.
Me: (and I’ll add that I was anxious to get off the phone to attempt doing any of the million things I need to get done) Dad! I barely even have time to scratch my own arse let alone read the thing you sent me.
Dad: Well I hope you have time to clean it.
(I am my father’s daughter).
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