Like poop in a dog park... so go the forty-five minute hours of our lives.

We got out of the car and headed out for a walk in the park to see what we could see.

"Oh, look," I said, wrinkling my nose in disgust. "It's a pile of minimization."

"Jesus. Well, don't step in it," she said. "Come on, let's head in another direction."

"Okay."

"Ew! Look at that!"

"Holy shit. It's square," I said. "I'd like to see the dog who left that one."

She laughed. "That one is called a re-framing."

"Well, I don't want to step in that, either."

"No," she agreed. "It stinks just as bad as any other pile of crap."

"And that one next to it? Why is it a bunch of little balls all stuck together in a pile like that?" I asked.

She laughed. "Those little balls are called cliches. No one can let off just one, you know. I'm sure it's possible to, but I've never seen it done. They seem to come in clusters like that."

"Well, it's decidedly unattractive."

"What do you suppose is in that bucket over there?" she asked.

"I don't know. Let's go see."

We walked over toward a shiny gold bucket adorned with a pretty red ribbon. "Who's going to take off the lid?" she asked.

"Umm... You could?"

She pried the lid off the bucket and the smell blasted us back a good ten feet and knocked us on our asses and drove the wind from us. "What was I thinking?" she said. "This is a dog park. I should have known what was in there. And the shit that gets shoved into buckets is the worst. It festers in there and becomes much more disgusting than it would have been if left to the elements."

"Then why the fuck would anyone put that shit in a bucket?" I was getting angry now, as the stench jerked the water from my eyes.

"The buckets are for the shit that's too ugly to look at. It's called 'containment'. Theoretically, it's supposed to be taken care of 'later', but this is always what happens when the lid finally comes off. I can't believe I fell for that."

"Let's get out of here. I'm sick of the dog park. It's just the same old shit everywhere you look. I need to go home and take a shower."

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go. But I saw a big pile of 'emotional regulation' near the exit path. It's not much better than the shit in the bucket, so try not to step in it."

"And after I shower, I want to go to a park where no dogs are allowed."

"Sounds good to me," she said with a smile. "It sounds REALLY good to me."