When morning looks like night - check your porch for tumbleweeds. Seriously. I don't even understand. The wild west has helped me more accurately understand things, such as "cold", "windy", "tumbleweed". I thought tumbleweeds were those fun little things that exploded when hitting the front bumper as I drove west through Texas and New Mexico. Turns out they are actually the prickly crazies that provide wonderful housing for mice, as well as serve as kindling under cars.
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| Ross is helping pitchfork those turds on the other side |
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| Only way to leave was our bedroom door. |
Good things came with the pigweed plague (or whatever those monstrosities are made of). Chase got off work early one afternoon to clear them, and that meant more play time with this kid.
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| "Fone" one of his new favorite words |
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| 13yo single white male. Love boxes, hat racks and catch phrase |
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