(I’m putting the Little Guy up for auction today. If any of you have sweet daughters approximately 5-7 years of age, please consider bidding on this valuable commodity).
Up for auction for your consideration today is one seven year old boy.
Physical description: good looking with big blue eyes and dark hair which promises to only get darker as he matures. He’s a tad skinny but that promises to correct itself in future as well.
Intelligence & future income producing potential: So far he has been getting 100% on 99% of his math work pages from the first grade workbook, plus he can read and write. Need I say more?
Disposition: He has his moments however they are few and far between and like most Ashworth’s, (meaning one must eliminate the Big Guy from the equation) i.e. he tends to be a teddy bear as long as he has had enough sleep and good things to eat.
Thumbnail sketch: This morning I am once again sick with a horrifying sinus infection that started with exposure to a very minor cold. So far the Little Guy has gone shopping with The Spouse to get more Puffs tissues (there can never be enough Puffs) and other supplies such as un-expired Chloraseptic (the expired stuff did little to alleviate my suffering last night—yes, S, you are always right!) throat lozenges and a variety of homeopathic remedies (my doctor won’t even see me until the suffering has been intense and, more to the point, agonizingly long). When he got home, he pulled each thing from the bag with a flourish and handed them to me. Then, when he saw that my lap was a tad full (The Spouse was thinking ahead and bought four boxes of Puffs, bless his heart!) he reclaimed each item and arranged them on a nearby table for easy access. He then, with absolutely no prompting from anyone, ran off to the kitchen to fetch me a drink of water.
Some time later when he saw that I had shuffled over to the computer to read my email, he brought the box of tissues and glass of water to my new location, then dragged a large and heavy blanket (I thought he might capsize—the Little Guy is little, even for his age) and placed it gently on my lap and around my legs.
If you should be the lucky winner of this auction, please note that he will not be available until at least twenty-three years of age (unless he goes to medical school in which case your daughter will have to wait until he gets through his internship) and will be subject to loan whenever mommy wants him. (yoo-hoo! hee hee) The bidding starts at one hundred million in pure gold bullion.
Up for auction for your consideration today is one seven year old boy.
Physical description: good looking with big blue eyes and dark hair which promises to only get darker as he matures. He’s a tad skinny but that promises to correct itself in future as well.
Intelligence & future income producing potential: So far he has been getting 100% on 99% of his math work pages from the first grade workbook, plus he can read and write. Need I say more?
Disposition: He has his moments however they are few and far between and like most Ashworth’s, (meaning one must eliminate the Big Guy from the equation) i.e. he tends to be a teddy bear as long as he has had enough sleep and good things to eat.
Thumbnail sketch: This morning I am once again sick with a horrifying sinus infection that started with exposure to a very minor cold. So far the Little Guy has gone shopping with The Spouse to get more Puffs tissues (there can never be enough Puffs) and other supplies such as un-expired Chloraseptic (the expired stuff did little to alleviate my suffering last night—yes, S, you are always right!) throat lozenges and a variety of homeopathic remedies (my doctor won’t even see me until the suffering has been intense and, more to the point, agonizingly long). When he got home, he pulled each thing from the bag with a flourish and handed them to me. Then, when he saw that my lap was a tad full (The Spouse was thinking ahead and bought four boxes of Puffs, bless his heart!) he reclaimed each item and arranged them on a nearby table for easy access. He then, with absolutely no prompting from anyone, ran off to the kitchen to fetch me a drink of water.
Some time later when he saw that I had shuffled over to the computer to read my email, he brought the box of tissues and glass of water to my new location, then dragged a large and heavy blanket (I thought he might capsize—the Little Guy is little, even for his age) and placed it gently on my lap and around my legs.
If you should be the lucky winner of this auction, please note that he will not be available until at least twenty-three years of age (unless he goes to medical school in which case your daughter will have to wait until he gets through his internship) and will be subject to loan whenever mommy wants him. (yoo-hoo! hee hee) The bidding starts at one hundred million in pure gold bullion.
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the Little Guy is my special guy
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