If I didn't know better, I'd think I was pregnant.
I'm not.
I can't be.
It is a 99.999999999999999999% physical impossibility.
But I am sitting here at the kitchen table, next to my son, who is eating Honey Nut Cheerios. And his Cheerios smell like stale urine.
I hate Cheerios. There is nothing cheery about them. They taste like sawdust, and you burp the taste of them the rest of the day.
Great. Son #2 just sat down with another heaping bowlful.
This is what I get for not providing hot, homemade breakfasts for my children.
No comments:
Post a Comment