Just the other afternoon, I was sitting with mom at the computer,
licking her arm helping to clean her up after her day at work, not unlike I'm doing here:
When all of a sudden, I felt a little queasy...
not a re-enactment
I was overcome with the urge to...well...how should I put this...er...yak!
::sigh:: But then mom had to chase me about the room to get that magazine in front of me. She was more worried about the mess I was about to make on the carpet. Honestly!
She should be more concerned with how gross she gets at the end of the day!
...heh, heh...not really...