I'm sitting in a chair in the living room folding laundry. Oliver is running back and forth from the kitchen to me, giving me a smooch face, laughing like crazy, then running off. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Smash. Some miss calculation on both our parts sends faces smashing into each other. He wipes his face off as if there is some dirt on it, says "ouch smash each other," and keeps on running. My recovery is not so quick, my nose is still hurting.
What are Russians made of?
What are Russians made of?
It's children... they are made of Jell-o, especially at the toddler stage... I swear!!!
ReplyDelete