Instead of pausing to bring to mind the name of (your own) subject child, you hand the book to the one standing next to you and say, "Give this to that other one."
BFF means belly fat forever, and even your stretch-knits are barely a fit.
At least twice a day, housemates find you standing in the pantry, glancing about and asking aloud of no one, "Why am I in here?"
Your son stops reading to you about the Ural River and Caspian Sea, says he's headed to the bathroom and will be right back, and you wake up 45 minutes later, no child in sight and your neck aching, because your head lolled at will in the interim.
You glance in the full-length mirror and come to the jarring realization you don't have the sense to dress your age, asking yourself, "Why did I put these on my feet? Why did I even buy these?"
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. ~Psalm 23:3
2 comments:
I bought new jeans yesterday and tried them on when I got home. Cleo said that I'm too old to wear these particular jeans and it looks like I'm trying to look young, but I'm old. She's not my favorite child now. ;-)
Hahaha very funny post! :) I'm not sure *what* age range that footwear is intended to target, but it would look great with my Whoville costume!
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