Thursday, November 18, 2004

No, As a Matter of Fact, I DON'T Want to Sniff Your Coal Box....

I adore, my little buddy Sean. He is the smartest three year old I have ever met. However, he is going through a bit of an odd phase right now. You see, he is a train. His name is Thomas the Train, do not make the mistake of calling him Sean or you will be smote down (smite? smitten? whatever-don't do it.) The following conversation took place at the dog park, on a bench, near an old lady and her ancient poodle, Poindexter.

Sean: Becky would you like to sniff my coal box?
Me: Um, I don't know Sean where is your coal box located?
Sean: Right here. (Proceeds to point at his bottom)
Me: You know what? I really don't want to sniff that. Bet there are a whole bunch of dogs here, though that wouldn't mind sniffing your coal box...
Sean: Why won't you?
Me: Tell you what, if you remove the coal box and place it somewhere else, more appropriate, like your hand, I would be happy to sniff it, until then I am pretty sure it's illegal.

I can only imagine what that sweet little old lady was thinking.

1 comment:

Brina said...

OMG! I laughed so hard I think they are coming upstairs to welfare check me... That was freakin' hilarious! I almost want to teach Alex to call it that....