IB playing on his 2DC upside down. I caught this photo from upstairs.
IB (my youngest grandson) has gone to Peshawar. He along with his mama, and Sn (brother) is spending summer vacation there. I won’t be seeing him loading his chocolate chips waffle onto a plate, and drenching it with maple syrup. It’s his favorite breakfast. I miss him.
We go to collect our mail from the mailbox at night, when we have our 2-3 miles walk. The mailbox is at some distance from our home. No blue jay lurks at night, must be safely ensconced in its’ nest. Though I have seen blue jays in the mornings in our backyard.
I don’t keep pets. I have to say my daily prayers, and that means my clothes shouldn’t be defiled by a dog, or cat touching me. So no dogs, or cats for me (I don’t yearn for them anyway). That means I will never have a dog named Bob.
A Dog Named Bob
You have 20 minutes to write a post that includes the words mailbox, bluejay, plate, syrup, and ink. And one more detail… the story must include a dog named Bob.