My parents and Clay had the oddest conversation about me the other night, as I was sitting with them eating dinner.
The conversation started with a discussion on our bathroom remodel and the heated floors I demanded for my ever-so-sensitive feet. (Since most of my spare time is spent being barefoot and pregnant.)
Clay and my parents were trying to blame the other over who had made me the delicate flower that I am.
"We didn't make her this way," my dad claimed.
To which Clay replied, "She was this way when I found her. It was a preexisting condition."
No one seemed to notice or care that I was sitting there and could hear every word.
However, I'm not bothered by it 'cause I got me some heated floors and they are glorious!
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2 comments:
As a domestic goddess, never admit to having spare time. Since you have at least three children, no one will doubt you.
I want to come see!
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