We were watching a National Geographic documentary Stone Henge Decoded. There was a scene when the archeology team starts to dig around the outside of the Durrington Walls. Â There was a shot of all these cows gathered by the fence, seemingly to gawk at the humans.Â Kind of like this.
“How cute!”Â Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.
“Look at all them lookymoos!”
Southern California finally returns to its natural state of sunny and warm this weekend.
“I’m sooo glad we can be out and about without a sweatshirt or jacket,” I told Brandon.
“Do we need to put you out on a rock or something?” he asked.
“Yep. Just like the guacam…uh…that’s not it.Â What’s it called?Â Galapagos?”
“You mean, iguanas?”
“Iguana! That’s it!”
“Did you almost say “guacamole” instead of “iguana”?”
Brandon is currently reading a book about a skinwalker, her vampire friend, and a pack of werewolves she calls family.
“If I have to pick between being a vampire or a werewolf, what would you pick?” I asked.
“Human,” he said.
“I’m going to be a werewolf because then I can have a tail! Oooh, a big werewoofy tail I can wag!’
He looked away from the Kindle. “Did you just say wereWOOF?”
“No, I said ‘wereWOOF‘.”Â Really, I was saying “wereWOLF” but being sleepy got my Thai accent acting up.Â I did say wereWOOF.
He laughed.Â “I think you’d be cuter as a werebeagle.”
“Ooooh. Cute and lethal!Â I like that.”
“Or a were(chi)huahua.”
I started giggling.Â “Werewawa?”
He started giggling too. “Or a were0ala.”Â (Werekoala.)
We both got the giggle fit at this point.
He said, “Or a weretypus!”