Sometimes on Saturday, after a fit-filled, sweaty sleep in the thousand degree heat, we like to lounge around with our little brother, positioning ourselves in such a way that the breeze from the fan goes straight up our nostrils.
Sometimes on Saturday, after a morning filled with equal mom play involving our brother and various toys that we have held close to our heart since the beginning of time, we like to enlist our mother in a game of Throw The Loud Yellow Bone because we know that this is our special interaction, considering that our brother is afraid of the unruly clunkiness this particular toy makes.
Fire In the Hole!
Sometimes on Saturday, after a soul satisfying game of run-run-run-wrestle-soft-bitey-chase with our new little brother, we like to school him on the subtleties of posing for the camera even though we are a tad worried that he does not understand the concept of hogging the foreground.
Yours In Patience,
Tim the Tutor
Sometimes on Saturday, after an unexpected and unwelcome thunderstorm throws a wrench into our peaceful morning, we like to wrap ourselves in the comfort of our favorite snuggly blanket and stare at our mom until the whole hullabaloo is over.
What Did I Do To Deserve This?
Sometimes on Saturday, after my brother and I have caught and eaten a beautiful yellow butterfly, much to our mother’s uproarious dismay, we like to take a self-imposed time-out by cuddling with our favorite toys—not moving an inch as she continues to judge us as murderers. And during this no-move-is-the-best-move time we like to plead with her to forgive us our trespasses because we know not what we have done.
Yours In Everlasting Forgiveness,