Mommy's on this strange kick to clean the closets. She's becoming a bit too ruthless for my tastes. She's working on my art closet in the foyer. She asked her super helper (that's me!) to toss something in the garbage so I dutifullly walked into the kitchen, pulled open the trash bin and shrieked in horror. There, lying on top, was my artwork. Seriously?
I carefully rescued my masterpiece from the trash and walked over to Mommy and silently handed it to her. Then I said in my sternest voice, "Sorry, Mommy" and made her apologize and give me hugs and kisses for being not nice.
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