Notes from the Sandbox

In plowing through my email since coming home, I hit a missive of peculiar malice, one that started out calling me an uneducated Jesus-freak, a repressed, sex-hating nutcase who was probably writing drunk most days, and a knuckledragging, know-nothing creationist racist, besides.

Then she got nasty.

My retreat was so good that I’m finding myself pretty easily amused just now, and the email brought to mind a song I learned in my childhood, which made me smile. Finding the song on Youtube, sung by two adorable elderly ladies only made me smile more.

“I don’t like you! I don’t like you! Ewwwww…I don’t like you!” It’s so sandbox. And it’s funny.