Today Griffin is 7 months old. But I'm so tired all I can do is drink gin and soda, and even that feels like work. Composing something witty yet meaningful is so beyond my grasp at the moment that I'll have to leave it to another day.
And I'm not the only tired one around here:
By the way, for all of you rushing over here to do the dishes (!!!!) like I requested last night...no worries, I did them!
1 comment:
Griffin's looking more like his dad every post. He wasn't up all night painting a set, was he?
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