Because my weekend was a blur of Rennaisance Festival debauchery (that unfortunately didn't involve a Dragon Beer OR Turkey leg because I can have NEITHER) and a wonderful Mother's Day, I got no writing done. Instead, I thought I would leave you with a Sassism of unparalleled wisdom and insight that I was gifted with last night as I said goodnight to my sweet, scary boy.
"Mom, you shouldn't play wif sharp knives because they could cut you and you could turn into MEAT. Dat is why we shouldn't play wif knives... or scissors."
Damn straight, little man. Damn. Straight.
(Disclaimer: We had make-your-own grilled kabobs for Mother's Day dinner earlier and he was very interested in where all the different bits came from. Peppers and onions from plants, shrimp from the ocean, kielbasa from pigs, steak from cows, ect. At least, that is where I am hoping this little "gem" originated.)