Me: It’s almost Christmas, Ducky.
Me: Time flies when you have no sense of it, huh?
Ducky: Oh, geez! I haven’t heard someone bring up that old myth for years.
Me: Three weeks.
Ducky: Time flies.
Me: I see a present under the tree from you for me.
Me: Thank you.
Ducky: The Lady helped me.
Me: I assumed.
Ducky: I assume there’s a little something for me under there?
Me: Of course. The Lady helped with those too.
Ducky: I assumed. She has proven useful. We should keep her.
Me: That is the plan.
Ducky: The cat can go.
Me: I’m afraid they’re a package deal.
Me: Like you and me.
Me: Like a cooler version of you and me?
Ducky: Unless you are comparing yourself to the one of them that’s allowed to poop in a box in the house, I am uncomfortable with the analogy.
Me: Technically they’re both allowed to poop in a box in the house. They Lady just prefers the toilet.
Me: Just one of the little things I love about her.
Me: Her preference for toilets over boxes.
Me: The Lady increases the chances that your dinners don’t get delayed when I work late.
Ducky: Fine. The cat can stay.
Me: That’s the Christmas spirit!
Ducky: Let’s wrap her.
Me: That’s less festive.
Ducky: Merry Christmas, Daddy.
Me: Merry Christmas, Ducky.