While walking through the park, Fleegle says, “That person looks sad and lonely.”
There are several people sitting on the row of park benches. “Who?” I ask.
“That woman sitting over there on that bench eating that sandwich all alone. Maybe we should walk over there and keep her company. I bet it would make her day.”
“And your motives have nothing to do with her sandwich?”
“Sharing makes people feel good. I thought I’d taught you that by now.”
“What about that big guy over on that bench? He’s all alone and he’s eat a sub sandwich that’s over a foot long.”
“There’s a reason he’s so big, and I don’t think it’s because he goes around sharing his sandwiches.”
“I didn’t know you were so judgmental,” I say.
“If I were living on the streets and given a choice between those two, I’d definitely choose the woman even though her sandwich is smaller. She’s so skinny you know she loves to share.”
“You haven’t lived a day of your life on the streets. You went from a padded whelping box to the living room couch without missing a beat, or a meal.”
“Are you questioning my street cred? There was the time I snuck out of the yard.”
“Yeah, and you went right next door into the neighbor’s garage, cleaned out their cat litter box, then ate a whole bag of cat food and passed out on their front lawn like a drunk frat boy.”
“You’re the fat boy, not me.”