Where are Our Parents?

The Butcher is going out now to discover how it can possibly be 7:40 in the morning and our parents are not yet awake. I mean, sure, they sleep in, but they’re Midwesterners. Seven o’clock is sleeping in for them.

Plus, they’ve been in the Eastern Time Zone all week. So, technically, this is 8:40.

I had to take Tiny Cat Pants off my iPod Touch because the old folks were not just using the iPod Touch to play games, as promised.

And the Butcher returns, and reports that he didn’t catch them doing anything scandalous, but that they appeared to be breathing.

And now Dad is up!

And wearing plaid pajamas.

3 thoughts on “Where are Our Parents?

  1. I know! The Butcher and I thought it was more probably that they were out there having sex in the back yard than we did that they were sleeping in. But they really were asleep! Which is probably better for the sake of my neighbors.

  2. B, you know I love you, but you should never, under any circumstances, so much as allude to parents having sex. Cause, um. Ick.

    I know for a fact that mine only did it 4 times. Once for me, once for my brother, and then those two times in high school when I walked in on them. I categorically refuse to believe that they were (are?) doing it on a regular basis. Cause, again – ick.

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