Camp De-Stress, The Incompetant Tooth Fairy and Fun with Forks

I got to spend the afternoon with Chippie, who was being a cat, climbing all over me, climbing up me and then crying when I suggest we go for a walk so I wouldn’t stuff him behind the refrigerator.

Never having taken an interest in it before, he opts for riding his scooter up the street. This requires a walk to the far corner of the back yard, under the cubby house, to obtain it, then back up the stairs to the decking.

As he’s attempting to lift it up the final step into the house, it tips, he tips and he smacks his head, quite hard, against the door frame. A lump forms and there is much, much crying. Grumpy Pants leaves for work.

Chippie is very sad. He is subdued by a DVD and we forgo our walk, until it is time for school pickup, where I remember I have a bill to pay, return to the house to collect it and walk past the post office where it is to be paid and have to return to that as well.


Monkey Boy’s

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