The Goose.

You know which game I always hated as a kid?  “Duck, Duck, Goose.”   Every fat kid hates that game.  Once I was picked as the Goose, the other kid had already run around the circle and had to wait for me to finish getting my fat self upright before he could claim his victory.

I would then proceed to walk around the circle acting like the most depressed Goose you ever saw, and all I could hope for is that the skinny kid that I picked as the next prospective Goose would trip and fall while he was racing me back to his spot on the floor.

So basically, “Duck, Duck, Goose” taught me to wish that bad things would happen to good people, just so that I could sit down again.


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