Fleas, Friday Night Fun and Fluffy Friends

It's one of those moments as a parent. Your son or daughter says something that you won't soon forget. Aiden was reciting what he learned in school that day. "Mary had a little lamb...it's fleece was white as snow..." Then, with a serious look on his face that still makes me giggle like ten year old, it just comes out mid-thought. "Mom, why does the lamb have fleas?" I had to turn my head and look at the ceiling to avoid having the boy see my quivering, ear-to-ear grin. That's all I will ever think of from now when I hear that song. Do they make a flea collar for lambs? Someone should tell Mary.

Friday nights are family nights here. Pizza, movies, and ice cream. A good way to unwind after a long week. I think more ice cream wound up on their faces than in their mouths. Thank goodness for the hardwood floors on the back porch. The carpet frowns upon those things. Once the sugar kicks in...it usual spirals into an all-out pillow fight (not even the dofg is safe) and a impromptu session of "dog-pile" on mommy. This may get a little more hazardous in about ten years. Unless we find a cheap chiropractor out here, that is.

Bailey has a new friend. When he was younger, he got a stuffed duck for Christmas. He immediately emptied it of the "quack" (batteries and wires all over the house) and all of it's stuffing. It looks like a pillow spontaneously combusted. He carried that awful carcass around for months...eventually losing it in the woods. Proper burial, I guess? We bought him another one and, like clockwork, emptied it of its innards. Now, he carries the torn up hide all over the house. If I find that nasty thing on my pillow, we're going to have another burial.