where wildly different is perfectly normal
God’ll get ya, every time
God’ll get ya, every time

God’ll get ya, every time

A learned an important lesson about karma today. When you jump off your bed and try to land on your three year old brother, don’t be surprised if you get hurt. Truly don’t be surprised if your plan goes terribly awry so if instead of landing on your brother, you land on one of the drawer pulls on your dresser (across the room, may I note). And, please, don’t be surprised when your parents laugh at you, not with you, because…

God’ll get ya, every time.

My mom used that phrase on me and my brother an awful lot growing up and A is hearing it an awful lot today. He’s fine, no fracture, just a soft-tissue injury. But the entire day was blown going to the doctor and getting xrays and then searching the tri-state area for a set of crutches small enough for him. I finally found an adjustable cane so he can hobble around. The Tiny Tim jokes are already flying, and boy howdy, Christmas Eve services on Monday are going to have us all chuckling.

“God bless us, every one!”

As long as your karma is good…

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