May 27, 2008 @ 6:23 am | Filed under: These People Crack Me Up
At the breakfast table, Beanie heaves a wistful sigh.
“Rats. I’ve dreamed of having a whole box of cereal all to myself, and I thought it was going to come true at last because no one else likes this kind. But then I remembered the baby does.”
Girl After My Own Heart
I do not think that word means what you think it means
Preparedness for Six-Year-Olds