Let’s talk about the grass and the price of chicken and whether I saw the game yesterday. Or not. I’m good either way.
I guess the house ate them.
I don’t like that Justin Bieber.
My pockets overflow with Hershey wrappers. They tumble out along the floor like product placement in a Hansel and Gretel movie.
They know to never listen if I ask them to smell their food or accept a Hurtz Donut.
He wasn’t doing it for us. He was doing it for himself.
Slime-making is basically when you spend $30 on supplies to make a handful of sticky goo that you could buy for 50 cents in the vending machines as you leave the supermarket.
I knew she had her hooks deep into this snow day and wanted nothing more than to jump into the yard like a drunk elf on a trampoline.
Some of my lowest points from the past few years are softened by their links to some great memories with my children.
The reality is that there are plenty of times when we, as adults, need to get away from the kids in order to steal a few sobering moments to ourselves.