Phriendly Phil’s Velociraptor Pharm n’ Pettin’ Zoo

Last weekend I cut down some old yews that were becoming overgrown near our deck.

Today I dragged the carcasses to the burn pile. My 4-year-old son is going through a particularly helpful phase, and dragged a lot of this wood to the pile with me.

Later, as naptime approached, I flashed the fingers of both hands at him, telling him that he had “this many minutes” left to play before his nap.

“And then this many?” he said, showing me the fingers of his left hand.

“No, this many,” I said, repeating the original offer.

“I helped you lots today,” he said.

“You stinker,” I laughed, “you’re calling in a favor on me!”

I gave him fifteen, and then some.

So here I am watching The Polar Express with the kids; we’ve just gotten past the point where the boy says “I believe,” then Santa shows up and asks “What was that you said?”

It took manful effort not to say “you heard me just fine, Fatso” at the screen. (Note: I failed to resist on a later viewing, drawing a sharp glance from Lori.)

I’ve seen too many Tarantino flicks.