It's all about cars

A couple of weeks ago, Biscuit and I were upstairs sorting through his spring/summer wardrobe.

Let me just stop right there and say how thankful we are that we have hand-me-down hookups. I went to a couple of consignment sales this year, but once I went through the hand-me-down bins, I realized that even if I hadn't gone to those sales, Biscuit would still have plenty of clothes for warmer weather.

So as I sorted through and oohed and ahhed over all the cute shorts and shirts and bathing suits and PJs, I realized that I didn't know where Biscuit was.

I jumped up and yelled his name, trying to track him down. Mainly because I hadn't put the safety gate up at the top of the stairs.

"Biscuit, where are you?" I yelled.

"In here, Mom," he said. And I could tell his voice was coming from the bathroom.

I was immediately concerned. I was picturing him playing in the toilet or even worse, dropping things into the toilet. Or, JEEZY PETE! we never installed cabinet latches in the upstairs bathroom, so he could be getting into the cleaning products!

But as I turned the corner, I saw him stomping one foot on the edge of the scales. They're the old-fashioned kind with the needle that moves when you step on them.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Vroom! Vroom! Vroom!" Biscuit said. And I realized that he thought the scales looked like the speedometer or the RPM gauge in our cars.

Needless to say, Jeff was quite happy when I shared this story. And another car freak is born!