One night last week, Nathan and I prepared to read bedtime stories.
"Owl wants to read with us."
"OK", I said, reaching down to get Nathan's small stuffed owl and carefully place him in the chair next to Nathan on my lap.
I reached over to the shelf to pick out some stories. "How about Frederick?"
Frederick, in case you do not spend all of your time reading stories to three-year-olds, is a story about some mice.
I opened the page and began to read.
Nathan, interrupting: "That's a mouse."
"Ummm ... yes."
At this point, the owl lept up in the air and landed, face down, on top of Frederick and devoured him. Because, you know, owls eat mice.
We had to pick a different bed time story.Posted by Mike at August 15, 2008 11:00 PM