"I can't walk," he said. I asked him why not.
"Because I don't have feet." Hm. Didn't see that one coming.
"What happened to your feet?" I asked.
"My feet went to the top of the tree, and there are nuts there, and my feet went in the nuts, and the squirrels came and ate my feet."
I carried him home.
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Our neighbour's dog, Shamus, got a thorn in his paw a couple of weeks ago, and Nancy was showing us where it was. At the dinner table last night we were talking about the thorn, and how Mr. Ian took it out. Says Sam: "Daddy, when you were a dog and you stepped on a thorn, I would take the thorn out of your paw."
I was feeling all warm and fuzzy, knowing that he cared about me and how I felt, and that he wanted to make me feel better. It would have been a beautiful moment... until he followed up with "...and when your Pepsi stepped on a thorn..."
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