Whoever invented the sticker is in big trouble. You know the stickers I mean… the ones you spend half the day trying to peel off fruit so you don’t eat them… or the ones on wine bottles or lipsticks. Or, how about those ‘price’ stickers on a gift you need to get off before you wrap it? I’ve broken more nails and ruined more kitchen knives trying to get them off.
But nothing compares to my ex-roommate’s story.
Not long ago while in the midst of remodeling her home, she fell and broke her leg. When she was finally able to hobble out of bed to admire the new beautiful windows her contractor had installed… you guessed it. Stickers! On. Every. Pane. Small. And. Large.
With soap and water and Windex she dragged her encased leg from window to window, upstairs and downstairs, methodically scraping them all off.
Exhausted, she collapsed on the sofa and looked up at the stars through her new skylight. Or tried to. What she saw weren’t stars, but a half-dozen STICKERS! With a great deal of determination, not to mention grunting that would drown out Serena Williams, she got a ladder, somehow limped upward, step-by-step, higher-and-higher, and again started scraping.
She was working on the last one when a sudden clap of thunder startled her and sent her crashing to the floor.
Now with both legs in casts, she lies under her new skylight staring at the one remaining sticker, plotting a gruesome revenge. And she’ll get it, too. She’s the type who sticks to it.