Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Mmmm.... good!

The kids and Ace went to our town's Halloween parade tonight. They came home with quite the loot. Well, the girls did. The Door Man decided that he would complain more than any woman on the face of this earth combined, so he didn't get much candy. And he went to bed early.

But here's a little conversation from the night. Is it verbatim? Heck no. I have no idea how the conversation went, but I could only imagine it sounded a little like this.

QB: Hey Daddy..... what's this?

Ace: Not sure. What does it look like?

QB: Some new fangled, dog-bone shaped candy I guess.

Ace: Well, there's only one way to find out!

QB: There sure is Daddy. Cheers!



When you receive a bag of goodies with these things included, and a business card from Howl A Day Inn, a dog grooming shop, it is a sure bet that it isn't candy.


Anonymous Dog Bone Daddy said...

Woof woof! Bark bark woof! Arf bark growwwwwwwwl...

In my woof defense, I bark must say that I was in a woof parade-induced candy tunnel-vision sort of bark mindset at the time.

I mean, arf, everything in a plastic pumpkin must be edible, right, woof?

Please excuse me now, bark. I need to scratch something.

Pant, pant, pant, pant......

10:17 AM  
Blogger Knitting Maniac said...

Oh ha ha, Ace. Very funny.

10:20 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh, it was Ace that ate it?


Don't feel too bad. Apparently I had a penchant for Milk Bones as a kid and I'm fine. Err, mostly fine. LOL!

1:35 PM  
Anonymous kailani said...

He ate it? Yikes!

3:13 PM  
Blogger Knitting Maniac said...

yes. He was telling me how the parade was, and he started coughing. I asked him if he was ok, and he said "I'm fine. The Queen made me eat a dog biscuit. She did, too!"

4:51 PM  

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The Lovely She, that is me!

I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

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The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.
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The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.
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The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

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The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.

And who would you blame ... yourself or the manufa...
Welcome to Ghost Works
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