When I was little, I was staying up late with my Mother and Father. My Brother was asleep. My Father had brought home a big jug of water — the type you see in an office — and set it up. While I was watching the jug, I noticed something green in it. I pointed it out to my Mother — It looked like a little frog with horrible, devious teeth. Or perhaps a piranha with short legs. Either way, it surprised and terrified my Mother. She altered my Father, who claimed that something evil was running the WalMart he bought it from. He went outside and shot the jug. We watched the creature go down the drain.

It’s not a bad memory. It just is one.