Seems a Litte Excessive

So, I have a follow up to last night’s post. My Honey and I were talking about my “issue” and he related the following story. When they left a certain store on Monday (and no, he won’t tell me what they bought there. “You’re the effing sleuth,” he told me. “You figure it out.”) they all got in the truck. My Honey turned around to face the back seat and he said to The Bandit,

“Now, Bandit, you can’t tell Momma what we got her. No matter what.”

“Yeah,” Sassy said.

My Honey continued, “No matter what Momma says, you can’t tell her.”

“She’s wily like that,” Sassy confirmed.

“Do you understand, Bandit. You can’t tell Momma.” My Honey pleaded.

“Yeah, cause if you do,” Sassy the Enforcer told him with a menacing glare, “We’ll beat you.”

If that ballet-fashion designer-veterinarian thing doesn’t work out for her, she can always work for the mob.