Yes, yes, the Health Department would be appalled, but that's neither here nor there. Also, I'm anticipating a phone call that will go something like this:
- Why isn't that young'un wearing any PANTS?
- Because she had just gotten up from her nap, and I asked her if she wanted to put on pants, and she said "no."
- Sigh.
Yesterday, I had a little time on my hands, and decided that it wasn't enough that I had trained you to run the dishwasher. We needed a new challenge! A new goal! Another job you could take off my hands!
So I taught you to make coffee.
Oh, what a big precious disaster it was.
Because it's what good parents do, your dad and I drank your coffee this morning, with lots of "MMmm"s and "Ooohh"s and "Yummy"s. And we congratulated you on being such an excellent barista... that is, when our mouths weren't otherwise occupied chewing all those coffee grounds that didn't quite make it into the filter. Mmm, tasty!
Five hours later, and my hands are still a little shaky and I can barely put together a coherent sentence. Nicely done.
Love,
Mom
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