So being the wonderful mother I am I started wondering where Foster was. I hadn't heard him in a while and that almost always means trouble. So I look outside, no Foster. I ask the kids "where's Foster", no Foster. I walk down the hall because I remember that I have a load a laundry soaking in the washer (that is a whole other story for another day) and see feet. I am in favor of more organic nap times and places, sometimes to my demise but anyway here I find him. He dropped right in the middle of playing with his sisters dolls.
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