Fiddledaddy made it home in time last Friday to celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary. My children were aghast at the number of years we’ve been married. Pfffft. Sixteen years. That’s nothing. I have underwear older than that.
And with that, the children dispersed.
Except for Jensen. Who offered us a homemade card. A peace offering I suppose. After the week of torment.
The front and back of the card.
It is unclear if the “mam” was a misspelled “MOM” or if he has a new found respect for me after the refrigerator
incident accident. It is also unclear if the two love birds are serpents or some variety of Brontosaurus. But they are evidently egg layers.
True love is not extinct.