I was in Costco today,
I know it was 100 degrees in the shade and I was on top of a ladder in the garage, but I was by myself.
So, I made some homemade––> read all the things
I feel like there needs––> read all the things
OK, back story. So, it––> read all the things
Josh: “Mom, what’s this?”
Me: “Oh, that? That’s my Costco card.”
Josh: “Your picture looks funny!”
Me: “It does?”
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“Mom, the flowers are so beautiful! Let’s get some flowers!”
Me: “Awww son… that’s so swee…”
Him: “For daddy!”
Me: “I breastfed you for a year. Why can’t you give me flowers?”
Him: “Daddy needs them.”
Me: “Son, daddy wants a steak, not flowers.”
Update: Dave got his flowers.
Like some verbally-deficient coyote who just needs to get the kids in bed so she can go kill some chickens.
And by killing chickens, I mean fold laundry.
Or eat ice cream.