("South to drop off, Moron!")
I fully realize that I am beating a dead horse when I discuss summer. And school.
(we like to start 'em out early with, oh, you know: french literature)
Actually, I think it's more like digging up the buried horse,
to re-beat it. Again.
But I have to mark this occasion, of my two little hoodlums in school,
and also mention that this ends all their years of wearing matching clothes.
Don't want my kids to be made fun of, ya know.
Half-nekkid boy couldn't be left out.
Why is it that I have to be left with the ones who don't want to play a video game with me, Uno with me, can't cook with me,
the ones that cling to my legs while I try to exercise and still need their bums wiped? THE BORING ONES??
Oops did I just say that out loud?