I'm going to sell our dog to the gypsies

Now to follow through with my devious plan... does anyone know any gypsies? She chewed a hole in the fence and managed to squeeze out of an impossibly small opening, half the size of herself. Thank you to the nice family that found her and called her “Princess” until we picked her up. Let me interject that I would never dub one of my children “Princess” let alone a pet. Did I mention this isn't the first time she has escaped? This is the fourth incident since August!!!


On a side note, I just glanced out the window and it is snowing! To be clear, that was not a blissful exclamation mark! I like the green! Stupid cold white stuff! Bring on the rain if we need moisture! Brady, on the other hand, has an opposing perspective. His reaction to the flakes: "Wow! See the snow mom?! Santa Clause is coming! I want to eat it! Wow!" Okay, I'll admit it; the kid makes me smile... a lot.


Now back to the gypsies. Why gypsies? When I was a young girl my mom use to read poetry to us kids. One of my favorites was Shel Silverstein. I vividly remember a poem entitled "The Gypsies Are Coming". To quote it:

The gypsies are coming, the old people say
to buy little children and take them away

When you were misbehaving you could count on mom to shout, “I’m going to sell you to the gypsies!” An empty threat that makes me smile to this day. I have found myself unintentionally verbalizing the same statement to my children, and particularly to my dog. Don’t worry, like my mother before me, it is an empty threat.

One more thing to add. What was Brady's response when I said that I was going to sell Roxy to the gypsies?
"Oh no! I love her! Don't take her to the gypsies!!!"
I just adore him!