It was the middle of the night when the bright light awakened you from your slumber, fingers rummaging, looking for a drink. You never had a chance. Hot dogs are his favorite. I'm sorry he didn't just take one. Or two. But three of you...gone. Well, okay, really two and a half. I found the disfigured third, half-way gnawed off under his bed. The bed he should have been sleeping in. All night. But no, new-found freedom of a bed without rails could not contain his midnight excitement from you.
I'm just so sorry.
1 comment:
Ha ha ha, what a creative post! I was sorry to miss you @ church last Sun.! We were home sick!
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