Alec can't handle broken food. As in, heaven help you if you break a granola bar in half. This morning he tore his toast, and insisted that I repair it before he could continue eating.
Joffre has to close every open gate we encounter while out walking. Last night at the restaurant, he went around to every unoccupied table, pushing in the chairs so they were even. It's like living with a pint-sized Monk, with less crime-solving.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment