It's been one of those days for me. It's a holiday payroll week, which means I'm cramming 2.5 days' worth of work into 1.5 days. Which, of course, means the kids are extra needy. And I got an email from my boss at 9:15 this morning, reminding me that it's a short week for payroll. I didn't so much mind the reminder, although I hadn't forgotten. His wondering where I stood on payroll was a little annoying, though.
About lunchtime, as I've barely managed to down a bowl of Cheerios for my own breakfast, I ask Hubby when he'll be home. I explain what's going on with payroll, and he says he'll be home hopefully around the end of naptime, and he'll even take the kids out to dinner so I can keep working.
After the kids wake up and Skype with Mommy (my least favorite part of ANY day), Hubby takes them out for dinner. Small Fry solemnly tells me that I'm not coming. I breathe a small sigh of relief, and continue plowing through payroll stuff.
When they get back, Hubby tells me that Large Fry has started to recognize that big yellow M. He relates the following conversation, which took place at the light at Black Gap Road at the end of the I-81 offramp:
Large Fry: I think we should go there!
Hubby: Where?
Large Fry: I think we should go there! Where the french fries are!
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