This is the face I see in my nightmares, peeing on everything in sight, punching his brother in the marbles (suddenly it's their new favorite thing to do to each other, their sister, and I'm guessing the mail man if they ever catch him in a weak moment), and destroying the toy closet in under 3 minutes.
Then I wake up, it's 6 a.m. , and he's standing next to my bed asking if he can have some cheese.
Usually this happens after a particularly bad night by the Sox.
It's the 7th inning and they are losing 9-1.
Think I'll save myself some time and just put the cheese on my nightstand so I can at least stay in the bed in the morning.
Thoughts While Trying to Ignore the Blow Out
17 hours ago