". . . little shall I grace my cause

In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver . . ."

(William Shakespeare's Othello, I.iii.88-90)

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Little Home of Horrors

Today at the conclusion of our morning devotion Evan got up to leave the table. As he passed by his father's chair, my husband reached out his arms for his younger son. Evan, anticipating some paternal tickling (or other such torment), tried to avoid his father's grasp, but fathers' grasps being what they are, was unsuccessful. After a few seconds of wrangling Evan submitted and my husband said, "Evan, I just want to hug you. You don't try to get away from Mommy--why do you try to get away from me?" To which Evan replied, "Oh. I thought you were going to do a more horrifying application."

Hugs of the non-horrifying variety ensued.


Lorna said...

Hi, I know you don't know me, but I've been enjoying your blog for awhile. (I don't even remember how I found it!) But I just had to say that this happens at our house with regularity! :)

Cheryl said...

Hi Lorna! Nice to meet you! And thanks for reading!

Leah said...

How could any young boy's life be complete without the horrifying application of tickles from Dad?

Martha said...

We regularly have horrifying applications of tickles to the youngest member of our household. He just bursts into giggles from said applications.