My friend Brian had the gall to call me yesterday and accuse me of being negligent with the blog. "But the last two posts have been just pictures," he whined.
Ugh. Hush.
For the past week, I've been working two jobs and the fact that my family members leave the house every morning in clean clothes with a plan for all three meals is enough of an accomplishment for me.
Being seriously low on groceries, though, is something I can't abide, so immediately after breakfast this morning (where you had a banana/chocolate chip pancake and a fried egg) you and I went into town to hit the store. While riding in the buggy, you ate all of the snacks in the diaper bag: cheese crackers, a prune and a tangerine. You would think that all of that would be enough food to choke a goat, but apparently not, because when I put a bag of hamburger buns in the buggy, you chewed a hole in the plastic and sucked big chunks of the bun out of the hole.
17 year-old checker: There's a hole in this bag.
Brooke: I know. We put it there. Just ring it up, dude.
That's right. I paid for them. Walmart has annual sales of approximately $400 billion, but I didn't want them to take a hit on those $1.25 hamburger buns.
Since I'm too busy this week to take you to the doctor, I'm going to go ahead and diagnose you myself as having a tapeworm. I'm going to name him "Steve" and declare him as a dependent on our taxes. After all, he is eating us out of house and home.
Love,
Mom
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