Then there's Horace Vandegelder. Will it be an obstacle to our children going on to lead normal lives considering their pet while they were growing up was a goat? A very low maintenance goat made of metal?
Every year, on Christmas morning, our children climb into bed with us and try to convince us to go downstairs. This year, Mark slid in next to me with ice cold feet. I was vaguely aware of more arms and legs and noise. I groggily asked if everyone was there.
Braeden quipped, "Not Horace Vandegelder."
Emma added, "He wets the bed."
Should I have instead got them a puppy? And had less weird kids?
I don't think so.
I mean, look how cute Horace Vandegelder is?
|in a stunning Christmas bow|
And I kind of like my weird kids too.