Dinner at my parent’s isn’t a formal affair, even when they’re lucky enough to have my fake brother (my best friend, Matthew) over for pasta. So there we all were…sitting around the table, while my mother assembled marinara with Italian sausage in the kitchen.
Mom: “Megan, you want extra sauce, right?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
Mom: “No sausage, right?”
Me: “No, thank you.”
Mom: “Matthew, sausage?”
Caolinn: “Oh, Uncle Matthew wants hot Italian sausage alright.”
Me: “CAOLINN!”
Caolinn and Matthew: (high-fiving)
I would like to once again compliment you on your excellent parenting…
I’m putting you down as a character reference with CPS.
I just read that it was 120 degrees or some such insanity down there, are you all, like, medium-rare?
We are refusing to leave the house until it’s under 109. Sadly, 105 feels cool and tolerable at this point.
I’m sorry.. did you say something?? 😀
Seriously, right?
If you weren’t going to step up… Someone had to, no?
Matthew’s work here is done… 🙂
Made the outstanding impression on everyone, I take it? Fabulous.
Everything is made better with sausage.
I got nothing… This my dear… earns its bowl of win!
That was so amusing, if I were drinking milk, it would’ve come out my god damn nose.
Your nose is not damned, but blessed and virginal. 🙂
Awwww, why thank you. 🙂