On Thursday night I worked at Shavy Jones. I got home late and had some cupcake frosting to do. I wasn't alone though, two of my three boys were still awake, waiting for me, watching shark week.
yeah. I don't like sharks and lucky for me, it was about great whites.
terror.
Fear.
Ick.
I did my best to just mix my butter cream and ignore what was going on in the living room, on the television. That was until there were two cute little dolphins swimming and playfully jumping in the water and out of the averted corner of my eye I saw the great white jump up and grab both dolphins.
And of course, all of the underwater action was caught on film.
The shark was ripping and thrashing those poor little dolphins to pieces. It was a big gruesome and a little two intense for a three year old.
How do I know? Because the conversation went like this.
Dad, what is that shark doing?
Dad, why did that shark grab those dolphins?
Dad, why is that shark shaking its head from side to side?
Dad, why is the water all red?
Dad, what's that stuff floating in the water?
The more questions he had, the more pale his face became until he said, "but dad, I like dolphins." At that point I thought he was near tears and asked for shark week to be turned off. Luckily, no nightmares have been had....yet.
And, as if my silly boys can't get any goofier on Friday morning we were getting ready to head out to the zoo. The three of us were downstairs and I was packing my bag and going over the mental checklist (don't forget the stroller. don't forget the stroller. don't forget the stroller.).
I had to run upstairs to find some missing shoes and when I came back down, my sweet sneaky little Chickie had something in his hand.
It was a piece of pop tart from breakfast.
He got it out of the garbage can.
He's George Costanza.
Pop tart? Eclair? Same difference.
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