Blake played my parents like fiddles today. Grammie got him a Coke for dinner, which I reluctantly agreed to, then Papaw walked in to inform us he'd already had a strawberry Fanta and a chocolate bar when they were hanging out in the shop. Blake grinned, then Grammie wondered aloud if he'd even needed the cookie she gave him to tide him over until dinner.
We split the Coke and he does not get dessert.
1 comment:
...and then you peeled him off the ceiling for bedtime?
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