...first, he would call it Creamy.
Second, he would write this story, which he reminded me of the other day (I'd forgotten).
Summer. Day. We're in the kitchen listening to some Raffi. He's singing a song originally made famous by a certain Mr. Belafonte.
Henry: Where's Jake?
Me: Outside, I think. He's been out there a while.
Jake, at the time, was the new popular dog in the neighbourhood. All the other dogs came to lure him out for adventures in the woods, fields, and streams.
Me: I'll go call him in.
I walk to the door front door. My mind is not in the task. I open the door and stick my head out.
Me: (loudly) DAY-O.
I realize immediately what I've done, and what a wonderfully absurd thing I've just yelled at the top of my lungs. Henry is on the floor in hysterics. If my mind were with me, I would have followed up with, "Me say 'DAY-0!''"
I wish that last part were true.
Me: (embarrassed) I mean.. Jake!