While mum was cooking tea in the kitchen I discovered the phone book in the dining room.
She saw me flicking through the pages, and since it's actually last year's phone book, she didn't mind if I crinkled a few pages.
I did more than just crinkle the pages. I ripped them clean out. Over and over again.
By the time she got to me I'd gotten through most of the 'motor mechanic' section.
It was great fun. But now mum and dad are wondering if they'll have to teach me to distunguish between the rippable books (of which there are a grand total of one) and non-rippable books - every single other book in our household.
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