This morning while I was trying not to hurl my travel size sewing machine across the room after the 39th time the thread came out of the needle, Ian saunters up to me with an interesting question.
“Mommy, it’s 10 o’clock. Can I have ice cream?”
I have no idea how these even remotely relate to one another (and when did he have ice cream before lunch?), but apparently Ian felt quite sure he needed a sugar high mid morning.
I plopped him in front of Sesame Street instead.
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