Day 4.263: Doggy bag

While the rest of us were preparing to be poked and prodded on behalf of the American government yesterday, I dropped-off our little American citizen to play at some friends of ours. He took his box of Wedgits in his hand and a few cars in his backpack.

Later, after I got home from work, I was asking him about whether he'd a good time and what he'd done. He gave me some predictable headlines: played, ate, drank, watched TV... Fair enough. Then the conversation turned to pick-up time. Exile #2 told me he was eating when she arrived to collect him. "He brought a couple of pretzels with him when we left."

"You brought a doggy-bag from a play-date?!" I scoffed.

"Not a doggy-bag - an Ernie-bag!" he replied without missing a beat.