I was watching TV. I looked over and saw this. He seems a bit concerned, with his squeaky ball pacifier, and I think maybe he’s not quite old enough for PG-13 programming.
And then this happened. I laughed so hard I gave myself Death Asthma.
Pink Piggy is srs bsns.
Where do you store your squeaky ball? Thomas recommends storing toys and snacks in the nearest rain boot.
Baby boy’s begface is on point.
It poured later in the morning, but while I was walking the dog, amazing things were going on up there.
He went trawling through the recycling again. He knows he’s not supposed to steal paper, but he also knows he can trade it for an upgrade (a cookie).
I don’t know how he manages it, but his head weighs at least 500 pounds.
Good boys are rewarded with a piece of pizza crust.
No, really. Thomas has a dry mouth 99% of the time, but that other 1%, he’s revolting.
Thankfully Thomas doesn’t ever actually eat the weird things he finds to chew on. And he brings them to me to trade up for cookies, so it’s hard to get too annoyed.
I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve that look.