Tonight during dinner I gently reminded Junior for the 50 millionth time to PLEASE stop talking with food in his mouth.
Without skipping a beat he opened his mouth, pulled out the wad of food and put it into his hand. He was that eager to finish his story.
Rule may need some refining.
About me: I'm a 40-something mother to a pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our tween Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler Cam, and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). I'm a freelance graphic designer and writer.