"Mom, when I'm like 50 I'll probably have a bathing suit like you do."
What I really want to say is something to the effect of "Honey, up until the time I birthed you and your whoppin' brother I could have probably pulled off a suit like yours."
What I said was: "Thanks baby, I'm glad you like it. You can have it when you turn 50."
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I messed up today. I took two small children into a furniture superstore. They just happened to have fifteen different types of bunk beds.
Not sure what it is that draws a kid to a bunk bed, but it's like some kind of strange magnetic force. We left with a crying fit. Apparently I am a mean and horrible mother because I refused to purchase a pink and green flowered bunk bed for my daughters room. It was even "Just her size". I tried to remind her that 10 years from now it won't be just her size and she will hate sleeping on a pastel garden bed, but she would not listen to reason.
The fit lasted a good 15 minutes.
I wanted a micro-fiber sofa, a new bedroom suite, and a kitchen table but somehow refrained from an all out fit throwing. Seems I may be maturing a bit.
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Abe escaped and went to Curl's Corner. Perhaps he wanted an Ice Cream cone or something. A kind lady picked him up and took him to the vet clinic. Since he's a strange looking creature, they recognized him and he's now back at home. Mel thinks he's some sort of boomerang dog, who comes back no matter what.
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