*Sam delicately cups a little moth*
Me: watcha got there?
Sam: I got a moth.
Me: Oh cute. But it’s time to get in the car. Time to let the moth go.
*He drops it on the ground and it crawls around, dazed from its latest imprisonment*
>
*****
Me: SAM WHY DID YOU JUST SQUISH THE MOTH????
Him: *shrugs his shoulders* Because. He was smelly. His bottom was smelly.
With that logic, my boys should be squished every single day. Squishings for all.
An American humorist, writer and author. When boiling down the chicken soup of life, she finds those golden, fried nuggets of truth & writes them long after the kids go to bed.
