Most of the time when I'm headed from the dining room back to the den, Pepper wants to ride along on my walker. If I think about it, before I stand up, I'll say something like, "You wanna come with me?" And she will start wiggling and waggling, practically dancing up and down, waiting for me to put my hand down so she can jump on. That works when I'm sitting. But if I'm standing, as when I come in from the living room, she starts her figure eights around me and the walker, and I really have no desire to step on her. Would make a heck of a mess on the carpet. "No, I'm not picking you up," I tell her. It's not that I don't want to, nor is it because I can't bend down. It's getting back to an upright position that worries me. But Pepper is one smart little bird. When I tell her "No," now she runs over to her ladder, climbs up, and onto the stool. It's easy for me to get her from there. I don't want to hear one word about bird brains.
(speaking of smarts)
A mother was driving her three year old daughter to day care before going to work when she noticed a family of dead raccoons on the road. She sped quickly past hoping her daughter wouldn’t notice. No such luck.
“Mommy, what was that?”
“Some wood must have fallen from a truck,” she fibbed.
“Oh, is that what killed all those raccoons?”