Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Dear Mom...

Dear Mom,

When are you going to learn that I do not like a dirty diaper? And when I am hanging out in said diaper, why do you still rack your brain trying to figure out whether I'm hungry (I shouldn't be), tired (I just had a nap), or gassy (I don't sound like I'm in pain), only to yet again think to yourself, "Why did it take me this long to think of his diaper???"

The sooner you catch on, the happier we'll all be.

Oh yeah, and Mom- in case I don't tell you enough, thanks for all the diapers you change. I'll pay you back in the form of protection from Roman when he is a high schooler and tries to put you in a Full Nelson the way Uncle Billy does to Grand Schmammy. I've got your back, Mom. Glad we had this talk.


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