This morning, Drew kept asking me for toast and I kept putting him off. I was actually doing it, just slowly along with the 47 million other things I have to do to get us out of the house every morning, but I am sure he felt like I was ignoring him.
He walks up to me, puts his hands on his hips and says “Mommy! I want my toast, please. How many times I have to ask you? I ask you a MILLION times already, but you just not listen.” and he shook his head sadly, like there was no hope for me at all. Which, lets face it, might be true.
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