His routine was to present them in a lineup first thing in the morning as I got up to make coffee and feed him. He would sit at the end of the line, chest out, immeasurably proud of the body count. You could almost hear the crisp tones of "Present Arms!"
The Present
began with the sort of joke store items kids love - flatus cushions, stinky stuff, boxes with exploding snakes rather than candy; you know the kind of thing.

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