Never Say Never

As of yet, I have not ever:

Been stung by a bee or hornet. They like me I guess.

Climbed through the little trap door in my closet ceiling leading to my attic. I have lived in this house four years now. Don't wanna know.

Had my molars pulled.

Sang in public. I would rather give a speech naked. (All those years in chorus, faked.)

Gotten my motorcycle endorsement. Cop sees a chick on a Harley and assumes she is legal.

Made a scrap book.

Driven through a big city without uttering the phrase, "Look at all those big buildings Punky!" (Going back once again to my friend Punky who knocked himself unconscious walking downtown Winnipeg while looking up at the sky scrapers and walking into a pole.)

Had my hair done without bleating like a manic rapid hyena when the stylist washes the hairy regin around the top of my ears. (One particularly sadist hag caused me to jump out of the chair, and I would not return until I had her promise I could finish rinsing myself.)

Failed to laugh at any reference to Monty Phython.

Gone to a wedding with my husband. Not sure ours even counts. There were seven of us. Eight if you count K2, who was two weeks away from being born.

Studied all night. Don't have it in me.

Wished on a falling star. When I do see a spectacular blur, I am in too much awe to think of myself.