Yesterday we had to stop by the store to pick up a gallon of milk. When we walked into the store, Jacob immediately jumped into one of those carts with the ride-in car attached to the front. Now you have to know, I hate those things. They are cumbersome, hard to maneuver, and usually have at least one loud, clanking wheel. I was already tired, frustrated at having to go to the store (again), and in a hurry. Not a good combination.
In yet another of my Great Mom Award moments, I asked him, "Oh, Jacob, how old are you?"
His reply? (To get the full effect, you have to imagine Alvin the Chipmunk when he says "Dave needs a little help from the love doctor.")
"I'm the fun age."
Luckily for me, hysterical laughing tends to dispel fourth-trip-to-the-grocery-store-in-four-days frustration. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hi, thanks so much for stopping by! I love to hear from you, so don't be shy - say Hello! (Sorry for the word verification, but spam gives me an eye twitch.)