Quick Sunday story.We were in the kitchen cooking lunch for the boys when Peter, who had been under the table, started muttering, "Found a treat. Founda treat. Treat."
I stick my head under and he's got reddish drool leaking from his mouth as he once again states, "found a treat."
As is customary when I don't know what he has in his mouth, I ask him to spit it out. I mean, it could be any manner of bug, bolt or banana chip. We just need to know.
Out pops a fairly old, partially-chewed, lone red skittle. A little appetizer for lunch.
You have to give the kid credit. He wasn't kidding. Still - part of me wonders if it had been a bug, would he have still called it a "treat?"
It's quite possible.
Taste the rainbow.
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