Damn it to hell, there goes my quota for this week
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I only average one "hell" or "damn" a week, so I knew I was in trouble today when I said both of them within a fifteen minute period. And Bobby has only been out of preschool one day.
Robert recently graduated from Nickelodeon to the Cartoon Network, and I'm worried if it might be a bad influence on Jonathan. Last night, out of the blue, he said, "Not another zombie massage!"
Robert had a dish of whole dried plums, and I saw that Jonathan was eating one. I told Robert, "That was certainly nice of you to share your snack with Brother." He said, "I didn't give him one--he helped himself." I went over and looked in the bowl--there was one left. "How many did he take?" I asked. I realized that was a stupid question and started taking the plums out of Jonny's mouth. One, two, three, four were pulled out, just like the magicians' scarf trick.
I didn't realize that, along with every contagious disease that comes down the pike, that I would also catch the dreaded scourge of whining. I was at the doctor's office yesterday, loaded down with sweet little baby, when the receptionist handed me a three page document to fill out. "Do I have to do it now?" I whined.
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