Monday, February 11, 2008

The Little Castle of Horror

My sister (yes, the one who bought us a toddlerific tent that held us captive forcing us to remodel our basement) lives 3 hours away.

When she called wanting to drop off a little something, I was stupified.

When she couldn't carry the little something into our home, I was terrified.

When my son opened the litte something, I was mortified.

When the compressor ran 5 hours inflating the little something, I was horrified.

The Whatchoo-Talkin-Bout-Willis-Little-Castle-Mosh-Pit

Uncle. I'm opening a children's gym and charging admission.

Any suggestions for a good payback gift? I'm thinking a kegger of Jolt and a pair of rabbits might be in order.

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