animal rescuer

Your daddy and I decided to divide and conquer so that our weekend would see some accomplishment. He took your sister home improvement shopping, and you and I went to Harvest Days at the zoo. You had a great afternoon stepping back in time, riding the carousel and visiting the gift shop. You chose an animal rescue kit–full of colorful, plastic doctor or vet tools–so you could be like Diego. With the overwhelming amount of crap in there, I was super-impressed with your choice that would at least encourage creative play.

On the way home, you recapped some of the instruments we’d gone over:

obiotics: Can you tell there’s been some sickness in our house lately?
thermonitor: a combination of words that confused me long enough to frustrate you.



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