Creative, I guess

Okay, here's what happened.

Madge grabbed the extra-thick sunscreen and applied it, liberally, to my back. My back started itching and I asked her to scratch it. She noticed that she could write with her fingernails and I figured the longer she wrote, the longer I'd get my back scratched.

Fair enough.

Then I wanted to see what she wrote, but the mirror was no help, so she told me.

Eek.

In case you can't read it, it's my name followed by the words "butt party."

I just hope she doesn't decide to Google those words

or it'll be like the time at the SFMOMA when she insisted we go through the photography exhibit, entitled "Sex Workers of Asia."

Ah, good times.