While I was blogging about our delightful lunch this afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne was experiencing a bit of ennui. And by the way, when he says "blog," he makes it sound like a dirty word he's regurgitating up:
as in, "Oh, you're BLAHHHHHHHging again."
But, I digress.
Notice the picture above.
What is different about Dixie?
Mr. Hawthorne painted her toenails.
And he's also vowed never to let me go to the grocery store alone anymore.
He will accompany me on every trip.
He's scared to death what I might buy now.
It must be exhausting to be Mr. Hawthorne.
Poor little man.
And he's also vowed never to let me go to the grocery store alone anymore.
He will accompany me on every trip.
He's scared to death what I might buy now.
It must be exhausting to be Mr. Hawthorne.
Poor little man.
1 comment:
Ahh! I'm afraid. I'm very afraid.
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