I’m getting old, maybe…
Big Brother’s monthly care package contained a couple of packages of something called tortelloni, which I never heard of but it seems a lot like ravioli which I like. So I cooked some up for lunch, which required expending a can of spaghetti sauce. And having dumped the can into the saucepan I almost looked behind me and called Little Bear…
…because cleaning a spaghetti sauce can was about the only thing he enjoyed more than cleaning a peanut butter jar.
Torso Boy is no trouble, he’s a cool little guy in his way and I’ll say in his favor that he takes up a lot less room. But he’s no Little Bear.
You are not the only one to have done that sort of thing.
I still look at a certain spot in the hall out to our front room and wonder why my rottie Hannah isn’t there. It’s been 9 years.