Daddy tried good and hard to convince me that the present he'd ordered, custom-made for me, was not going to arrive on time. The retailer had messed it up and they didn't think they'd be able to fix it on time. "They offered to overnight it for free," he said.
Right. Daddy might just be getting a clue here, but I'm totally onto him. He makes up these silly little stories every year. And, really, if it had been true, it wouldn't have mattered much. Of course, his gift to me wasn't messed up or late arriving. It wasn't even custom made, but it was still pretty cool. What do you think it might be?
I'll give you some hints.It's not a squirrel.It's not a dog.It's not a plot of land with oak trees.It's not some little mushrooms hiding among the clovers.I don't have to share it with Mam...and it won't make that black eye Smunch got while ice skating any prettier, but it might add just a smidge more beauty to the blog.
Can you tell what it is?