blame it on the dog

asher has been super into purses lately.

and i don't mean into like he enjoys rummaging through mom's purse

{because that's nothing new, he's always been into that}.

i'm talking, he loves purses, and actually insists on taking one with him wherever we go.

today he chose one of ruby's, which is in reality a cosmetic case that use to belong to me.

i told him that we'd be leaving in just minutes to get ruby from school, and that he had better pack his purse quickly, or he'd be forced to leave it at home.

i hurriedly grabbed my shoes, my phone, my sunglasses, and a 20 0z bottle of diet coke,

meanwhile ash grabbed his things;

and simultaneously, the two of us walked out the front door...

purses in hand.

it wasn't until we were headed home, two hours {and a trip to the mall} later,

that i was made privy {thank you, ruby} to the contents of asher's purse.

a toucan pencil topper

a silly band in the shape of a truck

a single sheet of notebook paper containing a scribbled design - probably created by asher himself

a few play tools

one of ruby's headbands

a fry's vip shopper's card

and a butcher knife from the kitchen.

yeah, you read it right...a butcher knife from the kitchen.

i about died.

how does this boy come up with these things?

and the fact that he's still alive, in spite of all the things he comes up with, is even more of a wonder to me.

i did my best on the car ride home to explain the dangers of carrying an open blade knife in one's purse.

i pleaded. i implored. and even disciplined.

but after all that, what does he do?

blames it entirely {along with his poopy diaper} on dix-d.

poor, defenseless little canine.

.