Listen here, missy.
Just because you wanted nothing to do with the homemade chicken Parmesan I heaped onto you plate last night; just because you resisted your highchair; just because you saw Daddy Outside as he was finishing a project before dinner; just because you think you are SO big ... doesn't mean you can simply open the sliding screen door and beebop your little blond butt down the deck stairs and across the yard to Daddy Outside as I am preoccupied cleaning marinara sauce off my floor and cupboards.
Oh no you don't. Just who do you think you are, little miss big girl?
Friday, May 29, 2009
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