Not at the table dear
The other day we all went to visit grandparentbloggers and swim in their pool. At dinner, preschoolblogge who was very happy to be eating his pasta in the buff started to twist aroudn his chair. He kept bending over, reaching really really hard to bend all the way over his groin. I asked him what he was trying to do, having some suspicion and he said, “I’m trying to bite it.”
Oh, ok, just not at the table dear.