My children are walking, disintegrating crackers, at least that’s the story my carpet tells. It doesn’t matter what you feed them (blessings, all): it ends up looking like the trail Hansel and Gretel left on their way to the Witch. Oh, the irony.
While I do have a love of the oven and namely my cast iron skillets, toasting kiddos has never once sprung to mind–though, they all could have been mistaken for fattened, Christmas hams at some point. Hey, I didn’t come up with it; some other snarky holiday visitor did.
I would like to maintain this streak of non-stick-non-skillet thinking. There is a rumor King Julien can help. Not familiar? Surely you are. “I like to move it, move it!” Now you remember. Anyway, he visits the land of Netflix on New Year’s Eve, and allows parents to trick their Hansels and Gretels into believing it’s midnight anytime they darn well choose.
All this to say that I enjoy seeing adults, and I even like seeing their children. They give mine something to do, ya know (I mean, beyond doing daily ‘stations’ to maintain consistency for my Pre-k dude, and the never ending book and train and oralfixationobjectremoval that we’re into two weeks now). There must be other people out there who enjoy adults and lying to their children.
Yes, Julien. I would like to shake my moneymaker. Additionally, I would like to know where my particular moneymaker is, so I could shake it until it breaks. I could to use the spare change, too.