:: making homemade pizza. yeah, they didn’t eat them. ::
Last night I was helping the Monkey get into a clean shirt before heading out to dinner.
With a bare chest, he pointed to himself and with a smug look said, “The girls like me like this.” and then flexed his “muscles” just to prove is point further.
I started to crack up and then, of course, so did he.
I was going through the Cheese’s school papers yesterday (yes! school is still going on here!) and noticed a piece of notebook paper with a bad drawing of a mouse skull and cross bones on the top.
It read: (his spelling, not mine)
“Rats in the Attic”
“What’s this?” I asked him.
“Oh, that’s our band called Rats in the Attic. I’m gonna need some drums.”
Indeed you do, son. A second grade rock band. This I’d actually like to see.
Last week while helping at Water Day at preschool, a darling little girl came up to me and said, “Monkey’s Mom? I’m gonna marry the Monkey.”
I smiled at her and excitedly said, “Oh boy! You are?”
As she started to walk away I asked, “Can I come to the wedding?”
And in all seriousness she turned around and simply said, “No.”
My daughter-in-law already hates me.