All of the sudden, the kid is on to me when I try to throw his stuff away. You know, important stuff, like his coloring pages, broken toys, half eaten apples...Stuff like that. He seems to have a sixth sense about when one of these "treasures" has made it into the trash and gives me the third degree about why I could have possibly thought it was a good idea to throw away what was apparently his most prized possession. It's like the garbage police live here.
Sorry kid, our house is on the market. Only the necessities make it out alive. If I can live without a microwave, you can live without the hair covered gooey hand you got out of the quarter machine at the grocery store.
He's cute though, right?
1 comment:
Wow, I have nightmares that Aspen is going to catch on any day now too!
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