It's all water under the bridge.

This water has long since traveled down river. Drunk by a dear. Peed out by the dear. Sucked up into the intake of a bottling company. Bought and drunk by someone. Peed into a toilet and flushed into the sewer system that leads to a waste treatment plant. Dumped back into the river and through a hydroelectric dam. And possibly a beaver dam. It makes its way through a delta marsh and maybe even an oil spill. Gets caught up in the current of some gulf, bay, or cape. Washed out into the middle of the ocean were it supposed to settle. That is unless someone has paddled furiously to find this water. In his single minded haste he forgot to bring a glass or canteen, so he sucks up the water into his mouth. Then furiously paddles back through the oil spill, the gulf, the marsh, up the salmon ramp, past the treatment plant and bottling company, busts through the beaver dam, takes a second to pee and poop in the river. Comes back to the bridge to spew that water out at someone only to find that the bridge is all burned up and demolished. The guy that was supposed to get spewed upon, has long since traveled down the road of life.

My dad is a very wise man, and a very wise guy. He told me once when I was complaining about a some idiot that cut me in traffic last week “Son, do you want to be that guy you're bitching about standing next to bridge with a mouthful of water that maybe has been through the kidneys of a beaver that you just pissed off?”