Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Trash Picker

My son has an affinity for Mc Flurry's.  
The ice-cream concoctions that are blended with goodie goodness sold at that fast-food joint you might have heard of.  

hmm...really shouldn't finish a sentence with 'of'.
...of which you might have heard.  There, is that better?

So, after a particularly hot and sweaty baseball practice he politely asked (as all teenaged boys do *ahem*) if we could stop and get a Rolo Mc Flurry.  You heard it right peeps.  A Rolo Mc Flurry.  That would be ice cream blended with delicious caramel Rolos.  

Hold on, I'll be right back...
Love me some caramel.  Or, do you say, carmel. ??  I love them both.

Now, back to my story:
I graciously said 'yes' and off we went.  He finished it on the drive home and promptly threw it in the trash when we got home.  Such a good boy.

A while later we thought the house seemed particularly quiet.  

It's only when it's particularly quiet do you realize how noisy a puppy can be.  There was no scurrying across floors, no stealing socks out of laundry baskets.  It was just oh so quiet.  So, we called our little darling, just to make sure she was still in the house and hadn't snuck out to play with a goat (yes, our neighbor has a goat--that's a story for another day).  After calling out, "Virrrrr-ginnnnn-yaaaaa" this little head popped around the corner:
Did someone call me?  Pay no attention to the cup on my snout.  

It may be stuck, but I don't mind.

It's oh, so DEE-LISH-US.

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