Blood on the saddle, blood on the ground. Great big puddles of blood all around!

It seems no matter how many times I tell the monkeys to put their shoes on it just goes in one ear and out the other.

It's getting to the point that I wonder why I even bother to spend money buying them shoes, they just don't wear them.

Seems though that I somewhat remember hearing similar phrases from my Dad many years ago.

Emelie is a perfect case it point. You would think after numerous splinters from the back deck that she would listen.

Nope...





Several sharp knives, a needle or two, and a gallon of rubbing alcohol later, all is well.