While cleaning up in the kitchen, I breakdown the pizza boxes from tonight's meal.
I like crushing them, so I put one down and stomp on it with my bare feet.
The little three legged support in the box that keeps the lid from hitting the pizza pierces the lid and only manages to avoid puncturing my foot because my feet are tough from not wearing shoes for the past month and a half.
When I show Katie the bruise on the bottom of my foot, she says sympathetically, "The tiny tables are the worst!"
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