I walk into the livingroom and notice Dan is missing. “Alannah, where is your brother?” I walk into the kitchen and look around the corner and stifle a giggle. My darling son pushed a chair to the fridge, stood up on the chair, opened the freezer, picked up an ENTIRE pack of popsicles (there are like 12 in a pack), ducked down in the chair, closed the door (and made SURE it was closed), then hopped out of the chair and skipped across the kitchen yelling “I GOT POPSICLES!!! I GOT POPSICLES!!!!”
It’s snack time and he doesn’t want *anything* snacky in the house. I finally grab a spoon, dig a big glob of peanut butter out and hand it to him. He says “I don’t WANT peanut butter”, but takes the spoon anyway. I finish loading the dishwasher and walk into the living room. He’s sitting in the recliner with the footrest extended (even tho his legs barely reach the end of the cushion), fondling himself, and licking the spoon.
My Dad has an outside (stray) cat that he feeds occasionally. We have a new puppy. On the day that these two animals decided to rub noses, Dad and Dan were outside “working” on the truck. The cat saw the pup and hissed, and da pup decided to go try to sniff the cat’s butt. Can you imagine what happened next? (besides the obvious arched back and hissing noises) Dan went streaking across the yard, yelling “I’ll save you, puppy!”
good times 