Lauren Urban requested a picture of our Henry with a fried egg on his head. He was very grumbly about this one, spewing diatribe about the recession, Obama and wasted food.
“…perfectly good egg….” I heard being mumbled in the kitchen.
Blake smelled it frying and was all, “Yummy, eggies!!” but when he realized there was a good chance he’d be chowing on breakfast fare swaddled in Henry’s black locks, he decided to wait and have a clean one fried up. He waited until Henry was en route to sleepyland to ask for one.
But don’t worry! The hair-egg was not trashed because Alisha’s dog Bonzi devoured it.
In other news, it is 6:30am now and Alisha were just outside. It’s cold at 6:30am. My leg is shaking very badly and the Degrassi marathon is done-zo.