Pat and I are standing on my front porch. Our lunch breaks are over and we're about to head to our cars to go back to work. The beautiful sunny weather we were enjoying a week ago is gone, bullied and shoved out by the typical Washington clouds. It starts to rain.

Pat: I'm getting rained on!

Me: Well... come here then. *I grab his arm and haul him under the eaves where I'm standing.* There, see? No more rain.

Pat: You saved me!

Me: I know. It was a monumental task, but someone had to do it.

Pat: *stares at me suspiciously* I think you're some kind of witch.

Me: Yes, you're right. I am. I'm also a ninja, remember? I'm a ninja witch.

Pat: *suddenly struggling to keep a straight face* You're a WINJA.

Me: ...........

Pat: Or a NINJITCH!

Me: The correct term is Winja, Pat. Not Ninjitch. Now get it right before I cast a curse on you. Because trust me, a Winja is the last person you want to piss off.


Would YOU piss off a Winja?

I didn't think so.