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Yesterday I was standing next to my 12 year old. I was not wearing shoes and he was. I’m 5’10”, and we were eye to eye. I’m hoping it gets easier when the rest of my babies pass me up….
After a year of bitching, moaning, and dragging our feet, we finally cowboyed up and purchased a new mattress. Mattress shopping sucks big Twinkies. You can only do so much research on line, and then are required to spend (read: waste) at least a day schlepping around trying out the product. Ugh.
We ended up with the space age NASA foamy stuff.
After DAYS of deliberation.
Dave needed some help moving stuff around to accommodate said new mattress; he walked through the kitchen, stating that all Star children needed to report to the garage. Soon, only Mason was left standing in front of the open fridge.
Mom: Why aren’t you out in the garage helping dad?
Mason: He asked that all Star children report to the garage.
Mom: Yep, I heard. So why are you still standing in front of the open fridge, waiting for something delicious to magically appear?
Mason: Well, he said children. And technically, at least at the movie theater, I’m an adult.
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