“Actually—” “Oh no.” I held up a finger. “Don’t you ‘actually’ me, mister. You’re in no position to demonsplain. I’m putting you in a timeout.” “But—” “Nope.” “If you’ll—” “Zip it.” He growled, but he didn’t say any more. Good boy. Once I got him out of my head, I’d have to teach him to sit.
