Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Tis the Season

Mari strutted into the kitchen dragging her plush puppy by the leash. I sweetly asked, "Are you walking your dog?"

"Nah, I shot a deer."
"Mom, I need a shop knife to cut the guts out."

(I took her that instant to have a bubble bath and paint her nails. Poor thing is apparently suffering from an environmental testosterone overdose.)