I caught Fluffy engaged in his very favorite pastime again - coloring the walls of the house. On a side note, why is it that the 3 children who were born after we moved into this house are so bent on tagging it like little saggy bottom, diapered gangstas? Do they feel the need to let everybody else who lives here know that this is their territory? I wonder.
Anyway, after the requisite "No way, Jose. That is not okay" chastisements, accompanied by the mean mom mugging, it was time for a nap. Once he was all ready and given one more furrowed brow, I got the "I'm sorry" pout and cuddle. Which made me think, is there anything better than a little head snuggled into your neck, chubby arms wrapped around your shoulders, and dimpled hands patting your back? Not on this earth, there isn't. It makes graffiti removal so worth it. But don't tell that to him.
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