“She worked so hard to make this Christmas perfect for us. I don’t want to ruin it.” “It is perfect. You’re not ruining anything. Nothing will or could ruin it, mark my words.” The instant I release that declaration, a French shrill sounds from the house and fills the yard. “MERDE! PUTAIN! MY FUCKING YAMS ARE BURNT! DAMN IT, TYLER! I TOLD YOU TO TELL ME WHEN IT WAS FORTY-FIVE MINUTES!” Zach and I hit the ground, laughter erupting from both of us as more shrieks ring out. “ALL FUCKING DAY I WAIT TO COOK THESE LAST SO NOTHING GETS BURNED . . . THEY ARE POTATOES . . . HOW DO THEY BURN? . . . I
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This is the only time I laughed during this entire book lmao
