Curse you all-glass, totally see-through front doors!

We were sitting down to breakfast the Saturday before last.

The dog started barking.
Mr. French went to the door.
They appeared to be either sales people or Jehovah’s Witnesses.
I was wearing this.

I really wanted to take a shower.

My bedroom is on the other side of the all-glass, totally see-through front doors.

And now you know his real name.

Not sure why he decided to write it on his leg, but it might come in handy if they are ever separated.

(If you’re taking my picture, does that mean I’m not really in trouble?)

Dear Molly,

I hope it was everything you dreamed it would be
and more.
Love,
Me

I just don’t understand it

Molly’s favorite spot in the house seems to be parked under the baby’s highchair.

Maybe I’m missing something, but I just can’t imagine the appeal of being pelted with rice and various other half-chewed foods throughout the meal.
Who in their right mind would put up with that?
 
(As an aside, has anyone else noticed that Felicity’s hair [...]

This could’ve been 7 different posts

But then you probably wouldn’t be reading this.
1) Mr. French is a year older (in March, sorry).
You know you’re an adult if you prefer the taste of your cake over and above the theme.

Or if Eggs Benedict and roasted asparagus were on the birthday menu.

You also know you’re getting old if your kids [...]