Daddy's still whining about the rib thing. Last night, he couldn't even sit at the table to eat, he laid on the floor and had bread for dinner. Mom keeps reminding him he's not 18 and shouldn't have been messing around in those waves.
'I'm washing my butt'. (Not sure where the 'butt' thing came from, as we usually refer to it as the bottom. Funny, nonetheless.)
More bacation whining. This time whining in the pj's with Mom's clogs on. Mom says she could be packed in 5 minutes if we could go again!
No comments:
Post a Comment