Slow dancing with old men. No, honey, not you.
Hot Firefighter Husband waited in the Motorized Landfill the other day while I walked the Pterodactyl into preschool. When I got back into the van, I noticed an odor. “Something smells,” I said. “It always smells in here,” said Husband. “It smells like poop.” “Really?” “Yes. Wait.” I sniffed again. “Breathe on me.” Husband breathed. Read More
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