Why is that called ketchup?
Why don't I have shoes on?
Why do I have to go to bed?
The "whys" have started.
Developmentally speaking, I'm high-fiving myself (which is sad and difficult and a bit strange, to be sure, but when your companionship is two dogs, a hateful cat, and Huck, you must give yourself the props you may or may not be due). However, spending fifteen minutes explaining the reasons why Hub's slippers don't fit Huck's feet gets a leeetle beet trying.
But the being proud of my Huckle is much bigger and goopier than the side of me that thinks "no more questions. no more questions."