Me: (After searching in vain for a half-dozen of his toys) Where the hell did all his balls go?
Little Grey Bungalow
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
This Could Have Been Better Phrased
Me: (After searching in vain for a half-dozen of his toys) Where the hell did all his balls go?
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4 comments:
well, if it was my house, where the animals are all female at the moment, the answer would be under the sofa or the love seat. just far enough under that all the most vigorous digging up of carpet won't fetch them out, so that mom has to get her creaky knees down onto the floor and lay flat to try to reach an arm back under there, and then try to get back up.
never under dad's chair, just wherever mom is sitting.
My SIL bought her dog and my cats toy bags, like cloth baskets where the toys go. Hers knows where to get the toys, and leaves them all over the floor; same with mine. but, sometime, they put them back. BatEars is more than smart enough to train to put thing back. Meanwhile, long handled duster or mop under every piece of furniture, in the basement, under the beds, in your laundry basket, or maybe, hidden by a cat or two?
Is that a stuffed duck?
The toy is never where you left it last. Aliens come and move the toy. The Maine Coons like to tease the basement aliens by batting a toy down the stairs. The catch a bare human foot with this wet trap causing said human to cuss as if it were a hairball is triple points.
BUnnykins, it's a rapidly-becoming-unstuffed duck.
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