Something is living under my son’s bed and you’ll never guess what

“There is a vegetarian bud-lah living under my bed,” says Primo in the car, on our way home from chowing down pierogies at Veselka.

“A what?” I reply.

“A vegetarian budlah living under my bed,” he repeats.

“A vegetarian what?”

“Buuuuuud-lah”

“A bird lore?”

“BUDLAH!”

“Butt lure?”

“Budlah budlah, Mommy, a vegetarian budlah.”

“Is this a real word or one you made up?”

“It’s a real word! The person who brings you things!”

And then I realize what he’s been saying this whole time, pretty clearly, is “butler.”

“There is a vegetarian butler living under your bed?”

“Yes!” he says, relieved.

Then David and I laughed so hard it hurt. And Primo laughed too.

“That sounds FANTASTIC!” I said, “I’d love to have a vegetarian butler living under my bed.”

“You would?”

“Absolutely. Its just the thing we need in our new place.”

I'm not joking, either. So if you know a good non-meat-eating butler who works for free , , ,