I took my pooch, Charlie ,for his morning constitutional yesterday morning. There's a big field behind our condo. Usually I walk to the end of it near where the poop box is and turn around and walk home.
Evidently Chaz wasn't ready to do the deed so we walked over toward the children's playground. I warned mom that my pooch was friendly. She seemed to be hesitant as we approached her. Playing in a small house were her two small children, ages four and five. The four year old, a boy, came out of the playhouse holding a carton of chocolate mile, drinking from it. I put my fingers around it and it was at room temp.
Said mom went insane. She asked me if I should take him to a doctor. What should she do, she asked.
Well, being the parent of a daughter who slugged down some ring cleaner in 1974 I gave her some wonderful words of wisdom. "lighten up, lady. He's a kid. Wait til he comes home with a belly full of vodka. You ain't seen nuthin' yet".
I don't know if she liked my answer or not but she did not call an ambulance.
I love it when I'm a great humanitarian.
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