“Stop singing!”
Graham, Graham-O, Graham-ito.
“You are REALLY annoying,” Graham shakes his head.
He is a leetul goof-ito.
“Did you take annoying pills or something?”
Evan giggles, and I shoot him a cross look.
“Yes. I did take my annoying pills. Thank you for asking,” I wink. “President Shrubbery II made it a law. All dads must take annoying pills and sing silly songs about their children every morning or lose privileges.”
“Gah! You are SO annoying,” Graham slams his fist on the table. “And you just make stuff up.”
I step outside with the dog.
Loose. Lucy. Loo-cito. She is a waggy-tailed beagle-ito.
I toss the dog a biscuit and pat her head.
The door slams shut, and I hear giggles.
I look up and try the door. Locked. Little turkeys.
In my pocket is a key-ito, and you better run rapido.
“OK, naughty children,” I say coming in the door, “grab lunches. We’re going to Camp Invention.”
So you can build a catapult-ito.
“You are SO anNOYing.”
“Good.”
June 17th, 2007 at 9:35 pm
Sounds like you’re doing it right!