I don't want to alarm anyone, but maybe we should all just watch what we say and try to steer this ship back into the G-rated waters. I think Thumper might be sneaking out of his crib in the middle of the night and coming in here to read my blog.
If I write about his digestive troubles, they go away. If I write about his cranky week, he shows up the next morning in full-on angelic mode, such that I thanked him several times and kissed him on his wittow fuzzy haid. So, clearly the only explanation is that he's reading my blog. Either that, or he's inherited some of Grandma's subtler intuitive powers.
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