I don’t know if you noticed, but the world ended today, at about 2:13 PM MDT. At least that’s what Hayden seemed to think.
I didn’t want him to play with the new filter for our vent, so I took it from him and put it somewhere he couldn’t get it.
Oh, but he could get it. And he did, of course. Screaming all the while, of course.
So I tried again, and this time I took him into another room. He screamed in even more frustration. Not even some of his favorite toys could deter him from his beloved filter. He turned and made it about six feet before the utter desolation of life without vent filters hit him.
He stopped where he was, howling a perverbal baby curse at the top of his lungs. He tilted his head back for maximum volume, demonstrating the full extent of his anguish.
He couldn’t go on, not even the twenty feet that would take him back to his one and only filter. Oh, the tragedy—the humanity! Hayden sank to his knees, ruing the day that he was born to such a woman that would deprive him of his filter. Such a woman! He flung himself prostrate upon the ground. Let it end. Let it end now.
I went to get the camera. I didn’t get any pictures of Hayden’s entry for the dramatic category “child of cruelest parents,” though. He’d rolled over by the time I got back to him. I picked him up and realized he was poopy. Though a diaper change is frequently enough to end the world, we all made it.
We’re sorry for the disruption in your [the world]. We hope that you resumed regular service soon and were not too inconvenienced. We also hope that [the world] doesn’t [end] too often, as that would make life very difficult around here.