It has finally happened. My baby is growing up. I have been informed by Gabe's martial arts instructor, Mr. Jensen, that Gabe should probably think about purchasing a cup. It started like this:
Mr. Jensen (while sparring with Gabe): Are you wearing a cup?
Gabe (looking confused and dropping his guard so that he gets bopped squarely in the face): A cup?
Mr. Jensen (looking awkward): Um, never mind, I'll explain after class.
He never did get around to that explaining thing. So on the way home, I had the task of explaining to Gabe what a cup could do for him. I thought I did a pretty good job. As always, I was wrong. Because as soon as I finished my fabulous explanation, Gabe came off with this:
"It's not like those parts have any bones in them or anything, so it doesn't really matter if something hits them. They can't break!"
I gave up and assigned the rest of the explaining to Chris. I do that a lot.
In further news, Moses and Jack got out last night and spent an evening prowling the back yard of the abandoned house next door. They both came in with their fur full of burrs. Jack has short hair, so a quick brushing took care of him. Moses most decidedly does NOT have short hair, and therefore, we spent the better part of an hour picking 10,000 burrs out of his fur with a fine-tooth comb while Moses screamed and wailed his rage and horror. At one point, I was in despair and considered just shaving him bald. It would serve him right for frolicking among the burrs. In the end, humans prevailed and Moses was deburred, with his fur more or less intact. He exacted his revenge by throwing up on the surround sound speakers. Such is life.