Nothing worth reading
One of my Sunday memories of childhood is my dad sitting in the living room reading the paper.
We were NOT allowed to even touch the paper until he was finished...not even the comics.
So I don't think he'd appreciate that my little Ella brought in the paper today, dropped half of it out of the bag, then decided to fix it by crumpling up all the sections and shoving them back in.
1 Comments:
Whatever. I could always weasel the comics out of him. You just couldn't whine hard enough.
-scott
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