Bart had a wedding rehearsal and all the jr high and high schoolers were busy tonight (most at a football game) so we decided to take Wilson and Dominyk out for dessert while Bart had a late supper. We had a fairly good time.
Dominyk though has two things that don't go well together -- Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and a canker sore. So we spent a great deal of time talking about the canker sore. For a while Bart was trying to convince him that it was caused by using excessive curse words -- or possibly by using the word bored too often -- but he wasn't buying it.
And he could do was explain to us in many ways how much it hurt, how irritating it was, how he couldn't keep his mind off it, how much he wanted it to go away. he asked all kinds of questions -- how do you get them, what causes them, how long will it take to go away, could he give it to someone else, was he going to get another one, would it spread .... yeah, OK, I know, you get the picture.
When we got home, Wilson was carrying some buns in that Bart had in the back seat of the car. He bent over, shook his skinny little butt in the air, covered them with the bags and loudly asked the question, "Like my buns?"
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