As I got Rakes ready for bed about 2 hours ago, the following conversation took place.
Rakes: "Dad, Trot's willy is a LOT smaller than mine."
Me: "He's only 2, son."
Rakes: "I can take mine and stretch it out, Dad. See?"
Me: "Don't do that, son. You'll hurt yourself."
Rakes: "No I won't, Dad. My willy is like playdough."
I need 8 hours sleep, a stiff drink, and a frontal lobotomy and it doesn't have to be in that order. Thank God I've got 2 days off, I can sleep in come the morning, and the Red Sox have a Spring Training game at 1 tomorrow.
I'm ignoring the fact Pedie left the WBC with a strained oblique and I've decided I'll deal with that in the morning.
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