I have literally said all of these things in the last 24 hours.
We do not show our bums in Target.
We have been in Target 20 minutes. I am not making a third trip to the bathroom. We are going home.
I don't care what I said, you cannot call your doll LaFawnduh Throwup Fabulous.
You may call it a magina.
It's probably not poop, but wash your hands, just in case.
I know, it drives me nuts when bears break into our house at night and eat our hair, too. But we're not moving to the backyard.
I love you a million billion, too!
And most touching of all:
The small beer, please. I have to get back to preschool.