Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

Micah loves Sheetz. This has been established many times here. When the boy is anywhere, he'll ask to go to Sheetz.

As soon as he gets up in the morning, he'll come into my bedroom, bend down, and whisper in my ear, "hot dog, pop." I always respond with, "no."

When he's at church, he comes up to us as soon as he gets out of class and says, "hot dog, pop." I generally answer this one with, "talk to dad." Dad has an easier time telling the boy "no" than I do. It's a win for parents and a lose for Micah. Except far too often, Micah gets to eat his preshuss hot dog and pop.

But the boy is lazy. Who isn't, really? He shortens things as much as he can, like saying, "hot dog, pop" instead of, "I want a hot dog and pop." But today he shortened it even more. That whole conversation where he asks for food, and I say to ask dad? Yeh. That was shortened. Today Micah came up to me after church and said, "Eat dad."

Look out guys. That boy can eat a grown man apparently.