Monday, May 24, 2010


I was recently out of town in Germany looking at a kick ass sports car you won’t be able to see for two years. And will be able to afford never. So, as usual, Steve stepped in as fake dad. Quite frankly, I’m certain Luca can’t tell the difference.

Anyhoo, a series of events led Steve to take Eli to our friend Kitty’s house to walk their dogs. She lives a short distance, so Steve opted to take the boy on foot. Steve tried to explain they were going to take some dogs for a walk as they trotted down our front steps.

Elijah suddenly said, “What about our loveable pal Grover?”

Who says stuff like that? Yes, I call Grover our loveable pal when I impersonate him on the blog. But Eli doesn’t know about the blog. If he did, it would’ve been shut down around the fifth or sixth poop story. And he doesn’t even know how to read.

And despite every ounce of evidence to the contrary, I don’t refer to Grover as our “loveable pal” around the house. “Special Little Guy?” Yes. “My secret romance?” Yes. “Executer of my last will and testiment?” Yes. But not loveable pal.

So that can only lead me to one conclusion. Elijah is freaking hilarious.

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