So, while loading kids into the car after a play date at the park, I fumbled one of Tennyson’s favorite toys, and it bounced off of my leg and shot into the gutter at my feet. Without thinking, I got on my hands and knees to look into the gutter and see if I could see the toy and reach in and pull it back out…once down there, I immediately realized that I was likely going to be murdered by a clown with jagged teeth. So, I thought better of my toy-retrieval mission, and bagged it.
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