Tater: My hand hurts.
FG: Looks like you were laying on it. How does it feel?
Tater: It's all noisy in there!
FG: I think it's asleep. Let's try to wake it up.
Tater: WAKE UP! You're late for school!
I narrowly avoided another Graceless moment this morning.
Tater takes a blanket with him to daycare, to use during naptime. The school sends his blanket home every Friday to be washed. Being the superior housekeeper that I am, I usually have it washed and in the dryer by 11pm Sunday night. This morning we were running late, so I grabbed the blanket out of the dryer on our way out the door, and threw it into the car. When we got to the school, I grabbed the blanket out of the car, and started to carry it in. Then I realized that I had forgotten his field trip permission slips, so I went back to the car for them, and as I leaned into the car for the forms, a pair of my husband's underwear fell out of the blanket, and onto the car floor.
I can only imagine the conversations that they would have had at daycare today if Tater had curled up at naptime snuggling a pair of his daddy's boxer-briefs.
Tater takes a blanket with him to daycare, to use during naptime. The school sends his blanket home every Friday to be washed. Being the superior housekeeper that I am, I usually have it washed and in the dryer by 11pm Sunday night. This morning we were running late, so I grabbed the blanket out of the dryer on our way out the door, and threw it into the car. When we got to the school, I grabbed the blanket out of the car, and started to carry it in. Then I realized that I had forgotten his field trip permission slips, so I went back to the car for them, and as I leaned into the car for the forms, a pair of my husband's underwear fell out of the blanket, and onto the car floor.
I can only imagine the conversations that they would have had at daycare today if Tater had curled up at naptime snuggling a pair of his daddy's boxer-briefs.
Aunt: "What do you like on your hot dog?"
3 year old Tater: "A bun. And ketchup and mustard and pickles."
My 87 year young Grandma: "Those Cubs. They fall flat on their faces every October."
FG: "I can't find any spoons! I wonder where all of the spoons have gone."
Tater: "I think they're at the parade."