into this:
by using a Sharpie marker. I left the modified mag on the coffee table, thinking my guy would skip on by it. This morning, he ran out to the living room: "I eat Kix! I eat Kix!" and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the book on the coffee table:
"My book? My pretty book? I look at it?"
It's something about these fit women that grabs his attention. To make matters worse (or weirder), his new teacher was telling me yesterday that Little Guy has a favorite book that he carries around all the time so that no one else will look at it. "What book is it?" I asked. And she showed me this.
I can only imagine where his head and eyes will be when he's a teenager.
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