Connor and I went to Florida this past weekend to visit a couple of friends I went to college with. The friend whose home we stayed at had two pussycats (Connor has decided that "cat" just isn't formal enough, I guess) including one that allowed Connor to chase it, poke it, attempt to carry it, etc., and didn't seem to mind. On our last day, Newton even came when called, so we got to bid him farewell. Connor would love a cat. Too bad his mommy would not love one.
When we got back, Ed picked us up at the airport. While Ed was loading my bag into the trunk, Connor promptly scrambled up to the front passenger seat, sat down, looked up at me and smiled. Clearly, he has decided that he would prefer to ride in the front seat. Nice try, Buster.
Yesterday, Ed and Connor went for a morning drive in the driveway, and out of the blue, Connor hopped in the carseat, requested to be buckled in, and then requested Ed take him to go see the gerbils. When Ed told him the store wasn't open yet, Connor looked at him and knew that Ed just didn't get what he wanted. So he brightly said "Fish?" because apparently, Connor realized that if Ed took him to the store with fish, Connor could show Ed where the gerbils across the aisle were located. Geez, Dad, don't you know anything?
Elaine
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