Just after we commented that Sprocket was so careful when playing around the tree, he went flying through the kitchen and knocked the whole tree about six inches to the left. (I’m pretty sure it was the laminate that saved it…if it had been on carpet it would have certainly fallen over.) “BAD DOG!” I screamed shrilly. Forrest looked at me grumpily; “You screamed in my ear,” he said.
All I could think about was ornaments breaking. Continue reading “Family History”