Drew is my nine-year-old son. He's funny. His father and I have crappy memories, so I'm writing this stuff down before we forget.
07 April 2010
His second language
Place: Couch Time: Evening
Drew: Dad, my finger is bleeding. Me: Do you want me to get you a band-aid? Drew: (In a very dry, slightly condescending tone) No, I think I'll just bleed on the couch.
I'm laughing out loud. You're making my day. Your son is a wondrous mind. Obviously excellent parenting at hand. Thanks for sharing these.
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