A week ago Sunday, Paul was at a meeting and I was getting dinner ready for Alex and I -- leftover chicken, sweet potatoes, and brussel sprouts. Alex had been snacking in his tower so when I had everything together I told him that he should go to his seat at the dining room table.
He scurried down and off... to the microwave? He rummaged through his cabinet there and returned holding the red, semi-divided dinner plate on which we had previously served this meal, as if to say: "Now I'm ready for dinner." It was the first time he's been concerned about his place setting and it cracked me up.
He scurried down and off... to the microwave? He rummaged through his cabinet there and returned holding the red, semi-divided dinner plate on which we had previously served this meal, as if to say: "Now I'm ready for dinner." It was the first time he's been concerned about his place setting and it cracked me up.
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