I'm afraid if I leave the room I'll come back and Kittrell will have eaten a Christmas present. Or a tree limb. Or an ornament. Well you get the point. Yesterday I walked into the kitchen to get something to drink which took all of about 2 seconds to do and when I got back Kittrell was chewing on one of my magazines. Which was across the room from where he was when I left!
And so it begins.
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