First off, I would like it to be known that when an Elf on the Shelf burns, it smells a lot like marshmallows. I say this so you’ll keep a sweet smell in your mind as you learn about what a bad mom I am. 1,285 more words
Tags » Mortimer
Mortie has always been a very good hunter. When his first two attempts at plying Schmoopie and me with gifts did not go as he might have hoped–dropping stunned mice on the bed in the middle of the night leads only to giant hairless apes giving chase and not, as he found out, to accolades and playdates with small mammals–he switched to more human-friendly quarry. 496 more words
Redding Skate Park
Mortimer has never been to Dogtown and doesn’t know any Z Boys.