He wants crackers in the morning. He wants crackers before breakfast. He wants crackers as lunch, dinner, and two snacks.
He wants Goldfish crackers, Cheddar Bunny crackers, Trader Joe's Peanut Butter sandwich crackers, Saltine crackers, and animal crackers.
|8am shot of the kitchen. Crackers everywhere.|
He wants to feed his dog crackers.
There are crackers on every floor, in both cars, in the bathtub (don't ask), in my hair, and mushed into all my jeans.
His cracker tracker is more accurate than my GPS. He can spot them by brand from his perch in the grocery cart, through the door of the kitchen cupboard, and ground into the rug in his playroom.
He can crush, stomp, and throw crackers with the ferocity of an Olympic discus hurler. He can yell for crackers at a decibel that rivals eight opera singers hitting the high note together.
Get your tickets before the show gets shut down. It's Crackerpalooza.