Several times this morning, Nate has come running at me full speed and scurries up into my lap, wherever I am with a look of fear in his eyes. Kind of like his butt is on fire. I keep asking him what is going on and he finally tells me that hot dogs are chasing him. Hmmm, interesting-has he stepped into one of my nightmares? That kid is funny-and here he comes again.
Is this who he is afraid of?
Or how about this little guy?
Or is it this guy and he, thankfully, just doesn't know the word yet???
Yikes, I think I need to go hide in my bed with some vodka.