Oh, to know what’s going on in the boy’s head: On a certain afternoon a few days back the Jr. VP decided that he needed to be wearing his Dalmatian Halloween costume. This seemed to put him in the mood to fight, so he trotted over to the cupboard, got out his gloves, and wanted to go. Show me whatchoo got, Daddy!

As the boy soon found out, what I got is that I fight dirty. When you are 2.4 years old there is no defense against a pinch to the neck from Mr. Spock (aka Daddy) followed up with the delivery a severe boy-belly shake. I had him whimpering like a little puppy. At least I didn’t pull his tail — now that would have been really mean.