Welcome back to Evil Tiki Tuesdays! Once a week I let Mommy take a break, and my brain writes directly onto the blog.
My first major attempt in Project: Eat the Daddy failed.
I blame it on my minions.
Step 1: I had my brother, Kesey-the-Dog (a.k.a. StupidSmile–What!?Hello?What!?–StupidSmile) bring his stuffed toy upstairs.
Step 2: During the night, I had my other brother, Riley-the-Cat (a.k.a. Klugman, a.k.a. iLoveTheDaddy–What!?Hello?What!?–LoveTheDaddy–StupidSmile) place the furry toy on the top stair.
Step 3: I jumped around, knocking over CD’s and DVD’s. (I was perfect! I was flawless! I was poultry in motion!) The skinny one that talks cutesy all the time (a.k.a. “the Mommy”) stirred but didn’t get up. The fat one (a.k.a. “the Daddy” aka “Happy Meal for Me”) woke up and got out of bed. All according to plan…
In the dark, he didn’t see the toy, and slipped on it. Both his drumsticks (a.k.a. the “legs”) flew into the air. This would accomplish two things: 1) the fall would kill him, and 2) the stairs would tenderize him on the way down. The tenderizing went as planned, but unfortunately, I think he only bruised his butt-bone.
The Mommy-one let him spend the rest of the day reading comic books. She didn’t even TRY to baste him. Oh well. Back to the drawing board…