I was about to write a really quick post about how I can never write a really quick post because the moment I sit down two of my children immediately and simultaneously ask for really important stuff like "Daddy can I have a purple bar on a green plate and a glass of almond milk in a dots glass with a red straw?", and "Daddy don't worry, I'll get my own snack" - Which means "I'll noisily shove a chair across the kitchen to the pantry and get out a chocolate chip granola bar and then some whipped cream from the door in the fridge, then eat them while sitting half on my seat and screaming happily at my sister who is only 3 inches away from my face. - Also can I have some honey"
I never got around to the post, but instead, I got them some wipes for their sticky hands. Then I swabbed the kitchen floor beneath their chairs where the layer of crumbs and hair covers the spot I clean every single day since forever.
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