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Oh great. Another mommy blog. I swear I didn't mean to.

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Sunday, January 29, 2006

Monster

There is a twice-daily ritual in our house. After licking every residual molecule of food off of her metal dish, Charlie goes in search of Monster. Monster is an ugly latex dog toy with a loud squeaker. Charlie has to shake Monster to death after every meal. She didn’t get to it last night and she farted all evening, so the process seems to actually aid her digestion. And trust me, Charlie's good digestion is integral to our quality of life.

But the shrill, tortured squeaking is about all we can take. Trevor says, “I equate that sound to having a teenage son practicing his trumpet up in his room. I want to stab myself in the eye, but I have to support his artistic expression.”

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