Pencil Me In
I have blogged often of Griffin’s unhealthy interest in my schedule. He needs to know what I am doing at all times. It’s flattering . And creepy. Mainly creepy.
The other day I went to pick him up at school and, on the way to my car, got the mail so I could have something to do while I waited for him to come out. When I saw him prancing out of the school (yes he prances) I shoved the mail in the crease between the passenger seat and the center console.
Upon entering the vehicle, his typical questioning me about my day began. I guess he needs to make sure I stuck with the itinerary I provided him earlier. When I finished confirming that I pretty much stuck to the plan, he glanced at the mail shoved in the crease. Interrogation follows:
Griffin: “What is this Daddy?”
Me: “It’s the mail buddy. I was going through it while I waited for you to come out of school.”
Griffin: “But, but, but, but why you get the mail? Mail was not in your plans. What time you get the mail?”
Me: “I don’t know Griff. I just got it. Not every little thing I do is in my plans. I also farted earlier. Do I need to pass that by you too?”
Me: “What buddy?”
Griffin: “What time you fart?”
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