Picture it: Earlier this afternoon. My parent's living room. Beckett has decided he needs something to listen to so we can "have that party" (it's a dance party, by the way). While rifling through the CDs by the stereo in the living room, he knocks them all on the floor, bends over to pick them up, but returns with only a tape in his hands. He starts trying to put it in the tape player because we just have to listen to the tape. What's on this tape, you ask? Are you ready? According to Beckett, on this tape is "a story about a boy who shoots a puppy."
I'm gonna let that sink in. It took about 3 seconds for it to register at the time. When it did, my dad and I looked at each other quizzically, and the burst out into laughter.
"That sounds really great, Beckett," said my dad, trying his hardest to speak through the laughter.
"Heartwarming," I said through tears because I was crying from laughing so hard.
We continue to laugh, Beckett continues to look confused. He gives up his quest to have us listen to the timeless and loving story of the boy who shoots his dog. He walks out of the room, leaving all the CDs in a pile on the floor. He can't get any respect in this house.
I walked over to the corner to pick up the mess B had made and while stacking all the CDs and the cases, I come across this:
This is the case that Beckett's tape came out of. And, yep, that is a picture of someone holding a gun to that dog's head. "Ooooohhhhhh," I said as I started to giggle. I turned the case to my dad. "Well," he replies, "that is a dog getting shot." We continued laughing.
"I'm just glad he didn't come up with shooting a dog out of his own little brain," I tell my dad, relieved that my child is not a sociopath.
Two hours later we were still laughing about it. I'm still laughing about it now.
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