Delete.

Delete.

Delete.

So more often than not I’m feeding my son Chick-fil-a for dinner. It’s right next to his school, after a long day even I’m like…

“You want Big Cow?”

(That’s what he has called it since he could put a sentence together)

I’ve gone so much that I have cooling his Mac and cheese off to a sweet science.

Order, sit on the front seat uncovered until the third stop light from home, recover and it will be just the right temperature when we open it at home.

Disgusting I am.

Delete my parent points, I willfully submit.

Find this in the manual in Chapter 809: “Drive Thru Confessions Of A Lazy Dad”

Author:

Critical Thinker