Brady took his first steps on the last day of May. My grandmother claimed that she was a witch because she said he would walk early. In fact, her exact words were,
"Ha, ha. I'm a witch!!!! I told you he would walk before he was ten months! HA!"
I didn't have the heart to say, "Um, yeah, Mimi... Brady is already ten months old. As a matter of fact, he's 11 days away from being 11 months old."
She seemed to be so happy about "being a witch" (WTF that is all about, I. DO. NOT. KNOW!) that I didn't want to break her little heart.
I thought it fit to end my post with a picture of Brady and "the witch".
The Devil, himself, created cookie dough that comes in a tub. It was bad enough when they started making it in those roll-thingies and you would just "slice and bake".
Now, it comes in a tub!!!! And I am a sinner because I worship the tub o' cookie dough. Nightly. Daily. Sometimes twice.
Well, tonight was rough. I normally grab a spoonful and then eat it and I am done. Well, tonight was rough. I know I types that already; I am trying to be dramatic. The tub was almost empty so I grabbed my spoon and grabbed the tub and...I TOOK THE WHOLE TUB AND SAT ON THE COUCH!!!!
So, you guys can ignore that post about my pants not fitting. LOL!