Chicken and I went to the craft store today and took the short people with us. All went well until the end, nearing nap time, when the Cave Troll was gearing himself up for a huge tizzy fit, and I took the wind out of his sails.
“Is that a real cow?” I asked. “I don’t think so. That doesn’t sound like a real cow. In fact, I don’t think you have a cow. I want my money back. The next time you have a cow, I expect a real show!”
It worked for a bit–for about five minutes he was quiet, trying to figure out what his crazy mama was really saying, and if he could work it into his ‘pitching-a-fit’ act.
After the five minutes was up, he gave an anticipatory whine.
“What’s wrong now?” I asked brusquely.
“I lost it!” He wailed.
“Lost what?” I asked.
“I lost my cow, mama! The cow is gone!”
Chicken and I didn’t stop laughing until we got home.
