~ The Day My Butt Went Psycho ~

It had been a relatively quiet day.  School was out.  Our lives had slowed to match the lazy summer current…we were totally going with the flow, Vern.  (Can I call you Vern?)

Other than babysitting some chickens for a friend, both Varmint and Critter had relatively few demands on them every day.  They were free to go out and explore, to play, to veg out.  Critter, being a typical 10 year old boy, had been itching all school year to be able to just run around outside, chase butterflies, look for frogs and hike up creeks.  He was chomping at the BIT to run loose and let out some of the energy that truly pounds through his veins.  And when that last school bell in June rang, out he went, full-throttle!

Fast forward: Half of the summer was over and, as I said, it had been a quiet day.  It occurred to me that while Varmint had been gone for a playdate, there was no good reason why Critter was so dang quiet.  It was suspect.

Anyone who has raised a Critter knows that silence – in relation to a Critter – is nothing short of OMINOUS.

With great stealth (hard to achieve with my, er, stout stature) I tip-toed around the house until I came upon him.   Critter.  The wonder boy who has boundless energy and finds sitting in a classroom nothing short of tortuous.


Sitting in my favorite rocking chair, eating a cold grilled cheese sammy, drinking milk, and reading.

At least I think we can call it reading.  A book entitled “The Day My Butt Went Psycho” might not be considered a great literary work in some circles, but it DOES contain words, and those words MUST be read, so there.

I took a picture for posterity, but also for proof when he comes home whining that he simply CAN’T sit in his classroom all day.  I’ll simply show him this picture, and say in a rather snarky tone,  “Er, WHAT was that you were saying?”

Because pictures speak a thousand words….

and are hard to argue…..

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