For my birthday a couple weeks back, I dragged the fam out to Burgerville:
And though *I* certainly don't look a year older, those boys have aged about three years this summer. Where did those lanky legs come from?
(Not speaking of the ones on the far left. I know EXACTLY where those tree stumps came from.)
(And it might rhyme with "fice fream.")
Speaking of having an affinity for the good stuff, here's the Suz with a French fry:
And though *I* certainly don't look a year older, those boys have aged about three years this summer. Where did those lanky legs come from?
(Not speaking of the ones on the far left. I know EXACTLY where those tree stumps came from.)
(And it might rhyme with "fice fream.")
Speaking of having an affinity for the good stuff, here's the Suz with a French fry:
Honestly, she preferred the apples:
The boys were just tickled pink that they could go to a restaurant! And get a hot dog! And "fries that taste better than the fries you make at home, Mom!"
Feel the birthday love, the pure and simple adoration.
Speaking of random acts of unselfishness, I then dragged the Pa and the kids off to the thrift shop, but not any thrift shop!
THE SUPER GOODWILL:
We spent a good hour rummaging through other people's junk, and eventually left with a pair of jean shorts for the Ma. Another year older; another thigh chunkier.
Hippo Birdie to me.
