Good times. For me and my dad. Definitely not for my mom since she was covering my twin sisters’ eyes, ushering them inside, and telling me to get my weenie back in my pants. I pouted as I muttered, “But my weenie really likes the air.” Mom looked at the sky, probably to the invisible big bro up there, and when that didn’t work, she directed her gaze at the actual semblance of a real God in our lives. My dad.
I love kyle
