Living with a vet tech is like living with the world’s weirdest CSI agent.
I walked into my kitchen this morning and there’s a microscope sitting next to the coffee maker.
Mariah has the biggest grin on her face staring into a Petri dish.
I ask, “Whatcha doing?”
She says, “Looking for worms.”
Just… casually. Before breakfast.
I don’t even ask follow-up questions anymore.
Normal couples argue about dishes.
We’re over here discussing parasite eggs while eating cereal.
If I ever disappear, don’t investigate the basement.
Check the microscope.
Stay in touch with Bigfoot and his farm — join the mailing list on any page, or pre-order the book and put your name in the first print run. New nonsense drops every Tuesday and Friday.
