Recently Mini-me has discovered a new way to give me a heart attack. Keep in mind he's five. You see he's figured out that the WAY you tell a story makes all the difference. For instance.
The other day I'm
Dad there's a grasshopper in the dishwasher.
Frantically I jump up. Now I'm not sure why I was frantic, or why I jumped. I mean it's only a grasshopper right? But none the less. I rush over expecting to find some type of critter in there.We don't live in a neighborhood, so it's not uncommon for bugs or critters to find their way inside. Anyway, I look around...Nothing?
Where is it? What are you talking about son?
Yeah it was in there yesterday.
The problem is, because the DW and I often pass each other coming and going, it's hard to get a straight answer when my sources are under the age of 10. Like:
Dad the cat got out.
What? I say running toward the doors looking for the cat . Are you kidding me?
No really he did.
Mom had to go outside and get him today.
Thank you son.
Leave me a comment Lifers...