Eight, seven central

So, the other day, when I went to let the dog outside, a bunch of crows were in the tree, making a racket. It was, you might say, a cacophony of sound coming from the canopy. (Cacophony is one of those self-conscious word for me–I always notice it and not in a good way.)

Anyway, I remarked to the dog (What? You don’t talk to your dog?), “Wow, that’s loud.”

Everything went silent.

Again, I addressed the dog. “Okay, now it’s quiet.”

They crows started up again.

Yes, it’s true. My life = sitcom.

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