Or, in standard English, shoes.
Doesn't matter, lil' dude. You are smitten.
This should not surprise me. Your father built the downstairs floor plan to include shoe closet- for his shoes! Don't worry, I have a few pairs there too. And about 78 other pairs tucked around our home here and there.
We are a shoe family.
Last night after your bath, you kept asking for your shuss. Pleading with me. So I did what any sane mother would do and relented. I gave you this pair of flip-flops to satisfy your appetite- as I have hidden all your other pairs away from you, and stowed them on a high, high shelf. Evil, I know. But if there are shoes in plain sight, it's all you want to do. Last night, by the way? I caught you licking Daddy's disgusting garage shoes. Licking his shoes! You are a maniac.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
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