Look at you, all happy and barefoot.
“We had the rugs deep cleaned. I tried to get Josh to kick off his shoes, but he started talking about Ibaldi’s Theory of Lace Color, and I think I blacked out. The boy likes to explain his outfits.”
“So, uh, he’s still got his shells on.”
“Your shells. Foot’s an oyster. Shoe’s the shell. Gotta slide on outta your shell, man. That’s where the living is done.”
All of you are getting weirder.
“Mickey is not only wearing shoes, but playing them.”
Sure. This is Mexico?
“Oh, yeah. It’s a hoot. Right on the beach, got the Holy Roller Monster Moon going. Nice check. Cannot complain about this check. Plus, uh, I wasn’t incapacitated by a shrimp taco this year.”
Right. Last year, you caught Montezuma’s Revenge.
“Rough 24 hours. Went through three toilets.”
Glad you’re healthy and happy.
“Better than the alternatives, yeah.”