We're back from Germany. I am so glad that I'm no longer having to rack my brain to get my needs met in a different language.
DH went out of town right after we returned. (The workplace was frantically emailing our home account while we were still on vacation to get his trip lined up. He's blessed with job security.)
Mark and I came home together. I saw a rabbit. (I must explain that the bunnies are my nemesis at this time of year. The cute bunnies do a number on the lettuce that I'm growing.)
I let Mark out of his carseat and invited him to go after it, saying, "Go get the bunny, Mark."
My three year old went tearing after the rabbit. Yes, the rabbit took off. The ball of fluff was soon hidden in the woods that surround our house.
As Mark returned to the garage, he said to himself, "My bunny left. No more bunny. My bunny is gone." It was then that I realized that he thought that if he caught the bunny, that he had a new pet. He thought he missed out because he was too slow.
Poor guy.
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