The PCP is just ga-ga over Scooby Doo. And it's rubbing off on Cookie too. So, when I broke the bad no-baseball news due to fourteen stitches the other day, his eyes lit up and and he broke out in the biggest grin... "Does that mean I'll be home for Scooby Doo Mystery Inc. at seven-thirty, eight-thirty central?"
It did, in fact, mean that he'd be home to watch the much anticipated season premiere. And we celebrated in style over a Scooby bone pizza, salad, Scooby yogurt and mini-banana puddings topped with Scooby Snacks.
It was just what the doctor ordered for our little injured angel, and when he proclaimed it Scooby Doob-alicious I was secretly glad to have traded in baseball for a family pizza and t.v. night.