Yesterday I had a doctors appointment. (Getting this appointment is a post in itself, but you'd be proud of me, not one explosive temper tantrum!!) The appointment was early so afterward I promised the kiddos breakfast. After a vote we went to Dennys, where Dillon proceeded to eat enough for three adults. I am not kidding, he ate the All American Slam AND tried to kype his sister's hash browns. But the story here is our waitress, burning her finger, yelling SON OF A (pause) BISQUIT EATER. For some reason this sent Masen into hysterics. She laughed until tears came. Then she took a deep breath and laughed some more. For the rest of the day anytime you said the word "bisquit" she would dissolve into giggles. I guess I can thank the waitress when I am called to school because my daughter says...S.O.B.E.
I'll blame it on Chris.
1 comment:
I use biscuit eatin' dog. Son of a biscuit eatin' dog. Whatever works....
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