If you’ve been to our house at all this summer, chances are, Chooch was shirtless. He’s about to learn the hard way what those “no shirt, no service” signs mean, I guess.
Me: Pretend like you’re an angel.
Chooch (& me): PAHAHAHAHAHA.
For someone who acts like having his picture taken is the equivalent of needles in the eye and Iggy Azalea in the ears, he sure has a hard time NOT SMILING when I tell him DON’T SMILE. You should see all the twisted lips in the pictures I didn’t use.
And for someone who didn’t want “gold shit” on his lips, he still has it on an hour later. So…..