Saturday, April 11, 2015

I am My Own Baby-Proofing

There have been a few instances as of late when I have eaten something that was on the ground, and ended up being in a very unhappy situation. Whenever I would do that, my parental units would attempt to retrieve the object from my mouth. I, of course, refused the indignity of having something I placed into my mouth removed by force. This led to them pinning me to the ground, wrenching my jaw open, and scooping out the object with their fingers. I did not appreciate these horrific experiences. So, instead, I have decided that it is better to just hand whatever I find to Mommy and Daddy. Sometimes they laugh, as I do not actually hand them anything. I figure that it is better to be safe than sorry with such dangerous situations. Here I am, attempting to hand imagined bristles from the dreaded toothbrush to my Daddy. I do not like my toothbrush, and I was just hoping that I was destroying that terrible device.

"Here you go, Daddy."

"Do you have anything to trade for this imaginary bristle?"

"...Is that real gold? That will do."

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