The sprinkler1At about five-thirty one morning, a husband and wife were in front of their house. The husband was putting garbage in the garbage can and the wife was watering the lawn.
Suddenly the wife got inspiration to water me with the sprinkler. Her husband said to her, “Honey, why did you do that? Do you think he appreciates it?” Then she laughed and laughed. Actually, I don’t like the sprinkler at all. As soon as I see one I run away.
RB 48. 7 August 1979↩