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.
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.
It's become apparent that Bobby needs to have his own blog. After all, he did have his own email address a full year before he learned not to soil his pants. Or would that be ratcheting up the precocious child (and obnoxious mom) meter a bit much?
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