The Dead Toad Shake
Last night I was flitting back and forth three feet down the hallway to Hopper's room while the boys were taking a bath. I was trying to pick up the million pieces of this Glow In the Dark Marble Run thingie, otherwise known as Plastic Sh** I Should Not Have Brought Out Til This Kid Is In Middle School. It took fifteen minutes for Sam to put it together, five seconds for Hopper to have it completely dismantled. Anyway.
I stifle a scream and then start whisper/screeching, "SAM! ohmygod pshhhtt BEAN, Walk Away, WALK AWAY ohmygodwe'reallgoingtodieofrabiesohmygodohmygod, SAMMMMMMM!". Sam does not hear me because Sam is on the couch watching some British detective show and the boys are making too much noise in the bath. So essentially I am just whisper-screeching to myself at this point, flapping my hands uselessly and having a silent heart attack while Mr. Bean stares at me. WHY DON'T YOU KILL IT WITH YOUR DEAD TOAD SHAKE FOR CRISSAKES?? He reaches over and pulls it out from under the bed. And it's Hopper's Coonskin Cap, made from the finest synthetic fibers. I believe he may have gotten it for Christmas last year from his Aunt Katie, damn her to hell*.
And I'm telling you that the fact that this dog looks so cute with this hat on is the only reason he gets to live right now.
*Just "Hell Light" where the people who buy children terrifying toys go.
1 comment:
Mr. Bean does look exceptional in that hat.
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