Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Mom says it's Zoe weather.
I say it's cold. It's frosty. My feet need licking to warm them up. Even the dog hair on the lawn is frozen. Solid.
Mom says we're having a cold snap.
Jib hopes not. The last time anything snapped at him, it was to keep him off the kitchen counters. He got snapped on the nose with Mom's Flappy Snappy. It kept him off the counters. Forever.
I hope the cold doesn't snap ME on MY nose.