Bob and I are not super great on the cleanup discipline around here. The family room generally looks like a pipe bomb of Matchbox cars went off inside a Toys R Us. Its something we agree we need to work on with the boy. So, last night we ate dinner and warned Connor that he'd need to clean up the family room before bedtime. I headed off to workout and Bob was on the PC in the office. 45 minutes goes by. I emerge from the workout room. This is what I hear:
C: Yeah. Can't right now.
B: (Inaudible) but I can tell its something about cleaning up
C: Uh. Sorry. I ate alot of meat. It's down here in my belly. (Looks down and points to stomach) I need to lay here for awhile to help with DIGESTION.
B: (Inadible)
D: (Me--looking down into the family room from the overlook) What did you say? You don't want to clean because you just ate?
C: YES. The meat you made me pack into my stomach has to DIGEST and I'm going lay here until it does.
I think this means that there is way too much discussion going on about stomach functionality in Tatertown.
1 comment:
Too clever for his own good, eh?
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