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A long time ago, when I still lived with my parents, I was sitting in our garden reading a book. My father lay on a deckchair on the patio deeply sleeping with his mouth wide open and snoring like a chain saw. As usual he was dressed in a suit, white shirt and tie even in his free time. In his opinion a well educated man had to be well dressed. I don't know if the pigeon which flew over his head took the open mouth for an invitation to poo, went into action but missed the open mouth.
My father woke up thinking he had got a raindrop on his face, so with his hand he wanted to dry the drop but smeared the poo all over his face. He looked gorgeous ! I was laughing and laughing pretending that I laughed about something in my book, because my father had no humor at all when his person was involved.
My mother coming out of the door, saw my father's face and got hysterical as usual. She screamed and screamed and pointed her finger at his face as if he had gotten smallpox or some horrible skin desease. Finally my father realized that there was something wrong with his face. When he heard what it was he got so furious that I thought he will get a heart attack !
I felt a malicious pleasure, because he was always great in making fun of others ! Now it had been his turn !