A few days before Christmas I was in the kitchen making cinnamon rolls. Lots of cinnamon rolls. Michael came in and looked around. He took it all in. The flour coating the counters, the floor, and my apron. The ridiculous number of dirty dishes in the sink. The many containers of dough scattered around.
He shook is head and said, "Man, I'm glad when I grow up I get to be the daddy. I wouldn't want to have to do all this."
5 years ago
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