Noah is going to Shriners Children's Hospital today for minor surgery on his feet. That very same surgery that Nathan had previously. Remember? No? Okay. That's fine. I understand.
Basically, his toes are wound too tight. His toes are curled under and the others are taking advantage of their newfound room to move. (I blame John. I mean my toes are perfectly normal. And maybe his are too but this has never happened in my family before. So. It's all John's fault. heh heh heh. Since I don't let him post on here, he can't defend himself.)
It is imperative that Noah not eat any solid food this morning. IMPERATIVE. Or very important. This. is a challenge. He's a food snitch. He's very innovative about how he finds and reaches food. Let's just say he's not afraid of heights in this quest for the munchies.
What was I getting to? Oh. Right.
We're keeping close tabs on Noah ... or being vigilant food guards, if you will. As I'm stalling him from going downstairs without me, he starts to notice the clothes I have on my chair. After looking at my sweat pants and feeling a sweater, he picks up one of my bras and asks, "Whaaaat's thiiis?" "It's for me to wear.", I tell him. "Wheeeere? On your buuuutt?"
Is hysterical laughter an answer?
*This particular butt holder can be purchased at Walmart. Tell them Noah sent you.