food, crochet, merriment
Oh, to watch this little Magoo, having his first real taste of this exotic, lovely treat…
one would certainly think that he was being force fed something scary…
nasty…
horrific even.
Certainly it must be a dreadful tasting thing. Something so terrible that it makes a baby cry…
and then gag.
Poor, poor baby.
Come on now.
Be brave.
Be strong.
Be good…
and…
eat…
your…
cupcake.
Seriously?
The bald kid sent us a funny story the other day. Well, not funny “ha-ha” but funny odd, or funny dreadful–if you’re the mom in the story.
He told us that on one of his long train trips back and forth and up and down in this far away land, they stopped at a regular station and had to show their passports to the border patrol–as usual. Well, apparently my boy’s “Russian face” (whaat?!), Russian diction and American passport caused quite a hassle with the officials. They interrogated him forever because he seemed very suspicious somehow.
My boy. Suspicious. I must tell you here that this fellow is the very LEAST suspicious person on the face of the planet. I know, I’m his mom, but still…
ANYway, they brought the big dogs on the train to sniff through his whole travel compartment but of course, they found nothing. Once the dogs were finished the men tore through his personal luggage and made him explain every single article in it. He said the shake down and questions held up the whole train for about an hour and a half. All because of that…face. Who knew that my baby boy had a Russian face? Where’d he get that?
I don’t know about you, but this whole thing would have scared the wits out of me. But this guy? Oh, no. His response to the whole thing?
“It was great to have all the language practice. The whole process was sweet and I really enjoyed it!”
Who IS this guy.
Sheesh.
😕
…Uncle Dane style.
I know…I know. Better than the circus, right?
~*****~
Since he’s gotten a couple of teeth, Mr. Magoo has decided that there are many, many things in this world that he can bite.
One of them, unfortunately, would be, and unsuspecting person’s toes. :/
But even for the sake of a possibly funny picture, I couldn’t actually let him do it–and risk the girlie losing a didget so I said, “Hey, dude!” just loud enough to stop him. He turned and let go. Doesn’t he look like he’s saying, “Whaaaat?”
But I was there, and I’m telling you that he came close, very, very close to giving Miss Chompy’s big toe a good, hard, think-bear-trap-type bite…and she knew it too. You see, she’s been to this place before and though she’s a patient, gentle, loving big sister–those two teeth are much like a highly sophisticated hole punch when they meet soft tissue. I too am a witness.
I was, however, determined to prove to you that we do indeed have a little wild man on the loose in these parts.
And now that I have my proof, my only advice to strangers in town would be…
wear your shoes.
