It's another triple digit day. Most animals know better than to venture forth. When the asphalt burns toes and can cook eggs it's nature's way of saying "stay indoors." Brogan wants no part of it. Whenever I do take him out in the backyard he runs under the porch, digs a hole, and lies in it. The only way to get him out of the hole is to drag him or pretend to go inside.
Shane, on the other hand, keeps bringing me shoes to wear. He can't understand why we aren't outside right now. The boy lives to be outside regardless of the heat index. He gets very angry when Dada or the dog argue otherwise.
I swear, my son's probably going to be on safari in the heart of Africa with only a spoon and a canteen twenty-years from now. Look out, lions.
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