It’s been said before, but I’ll say it again. I’m not big on romance. I don’t want anyone to gaze endearingly into my eyes unless they have challenged me aloud by shouting, “Staring contest!”
I ran up the stairs and before slamming my bedroom door I shouted, “I hate you! You’re not even my real kid!!!”
OK I didn’t actually say that, (to his face) but lately he’s been obsessed with talking about his wife and I’d probably be more concerned if it weren’t for the fact that his wife is a stuffed dog.
“Winter Weather Blues” is my son’s nickname.
I’m writing to you from a place called Monkey Joe’s. It’s a place where kids can run wild with reckless abandon while their parents sit in massage chairs and use the free wifi to watch episodes of Breaking Bad on their laptops.
Upon immediately walking in the door Luke stated, “It smells like the doctor, but worse!”
This, ladies and gentlemen is why you should never take a five-year-old to the DMV.
Luke missed several days of school this week due to having strep throat. It goes without saying, but he and I spent A LOT of time together.
Most Some of the time was great. We snuggled and read books, but there were a few moments I’d like to forget.
Today was a rough behavior day at our house. It was the kind of day when a certain five-year-old boy lost one privilege after another until he was basically stripped of every Lego, battery operated device, and toy he had. All he had access to was paper, crayons, and his books.