Me: “Sorry, kids. The dogs chewed up the Rock Band microphone. I don’t think we can play Rock Band anymore.”
Danger Monkey, age 6: “We still have the guitars and drums.”
Little Miss Thing, age 4: “We can still Rock.”
Me: “Sorry, kids. The dogs chewed up the Rock Band microphone. I don’t think we can play Rock Band anymore.”
Danger Monkey, age 6: “We still have the guitars and drums.”
Little Miss Thing, age 4: “We can still Rock.”
Running errands in a kilt on a windy day… Not for the faint of heart.
P.S. I might not be allowed to shop at that Kroger ever again.
There is nothing like having your 12 year old daughter hang out with you at work for a couple of hours to make you realize just how much your co-workers swear.
Loudly.
Often.
Fluently.