Yesterday Taylor informed me that his butt was hot. So hot, in fact, that the only way to cool it off was to eat some rocky road ice cream. And walk around in just his skivies.
In fact, almost every morning has been a battle. Yes it is hot and we are all miserable (Arizona- you suck and we all secretly or un-secretly can't wait until you are a state we just visit), but pancakes, cheese eggs, heck- even Frosted Flakes would be better than ice cream every single day for breakfast.
Oh, the regrets of a mom with sucker written on her forehead. Yes, husband you were right.
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