• Michelle

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Because my husband said it’s no longer Monday – Conversations at the dinner table and proof that my husband can almost be domesticated… almost

Last night, nobody wanted to cook. *FIL wasn’t home yet, it was 5:30 and we were all starving. I made a run to McDonald’s for our dinner.

*FIL = Father in Law

After most of the food had been consumed, James got up and started clearing away the garbage. John, however, has become a bit of a slow eater. Even after trading 2 of his 4 chicken mcnuggets for more french fries, he still had 1 3/4 of his chicken mcnuggets left and a handful of french fries.
James cleared away John’s ketchup. John looked at him from the corner of his eye.
James cleared away his empty chocolate milk jug. John gave him a dirty look, but after realizing the jug was empty, didn’t say anything about it.
James cleared away his empty french fry wrapper (this was after all the french fries were dumped into the chicken nugget box). John looked at me with concern.
James came over and started reaching for John’s box of chicken nuggets and french fries. Just as James started picking up the box, John let it be known that he.was.not.finished! A rather loud protest of “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I’M NOT DONE YET” was probably heard 3 streets down.
James picked up his hands in defeat and backed away slowly. After James’ back was turn, I looked at John. His back hunched over and his hands protectively covering his box of half eaten french fries, John glared at James and whispered just loud enough for me to hear:

“Baaaaaaaad Daddy”


Now, for proof that my husband can almost be domesticated:

Yep, that’s James with my sewing maching and his trusty can of Dt. Mt. Dew. He was sewing together a holster strap for his truck. And when I say he is almost domesticated, I mean the finished product was nailed together. *sigh*



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