These are recent conversations in the GB house (between the 2 grown-up humans who live here):
"What happened to the paper towel?"
"La Doof Kitton"
"oh. Why?"
"because he's a *expletive deleted because we try to be PG around here*. Apparently he just plain got pissy and managed to get on the counter last night, pull the roll of toweling off of the holder, and take it to the living room. Where he shredded it"
*La Doof Kitton strolls into the room*
"what did towels ever do to YOU?"
*he looks at us, jumps onto the counter where he isn't allowed, makes a claw-swipe at the towels, and then runs to the basement*
"bastard."
^I could add names to who said what but...I think it's interchangeable for us on this one. You can assume the EXACT same conversation was repeated about what happened to the stuff in my work bag I left on the kitchen table recently.
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Conversation at 4 am
Me: "what's that noise?"
Mr G: "what noise?"
*rustling noise*
Me: "That noise"
*Horrible crash followed by skittering of claws/paws and baby crying from scary noises*
Me: "I got the baby, you figure out what La Doof Kitton has"
*Mr G. walks into the nursery where I'm comforting/feeding Buffy*
Mr G: "I forgot to put the cookies into the Kitton proof box. But I brought you a cookie!" *sharing cookie*
Me, to La Doof Kitton: "You know you're a bastard"
La Doof Kitton: *looks smug*
Me:
Saturday, July 16, 2011
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