*Here’s a random story from my upcoming memoir… your welcome! 🙂
little girl?” I rack my brain for something kid appropriate. And then I have it “This is a cute story” I begin; he turns
toward me on the bed listening intently.
So then I tell him about our goat Cloudy who had gotten into a burlap sack of uncooked brown rice. And how Josiah thought it was hilarious when the goat tried to eat the peanut butter he was also feeding him. Tong sticking to the roof of his mouth, but still begging for more. In his defense, he was only like five, and it was hilarious. Until an hour later we found the goat on its side, tummy inflated like a hot-air balloon, dead as a door nail.
More dead dogs then I can shake a stick at.” He’s not impressed.
remember from my childhood. The night of the magical Christmas tree, the night I got the only toy I’d ever owned, my beloved boy doll Josh. He looks relieved, until he asks “so what happened to Josh?”