I figured I had a record number of bites adorning my arms and legs. Maybe a world's record! Maybe even the Guinness Book of World Records number of bites.
Then one of my smart aleck friends sent me this:
We're not friends anymore. If I can't have the world's record, then I don't want to play.
Besides, fifteen is my favorite number. 700 is not.
Fifteen is the number of ... pennies I have in my cupholder in my car. It's the number of minutes of fame that I think I had. And it's the number of flavors of Sonic drinks that I like. Wait, maybe it's 700 after all.
Either way, I bet I itch just as much as Diane.