On the way to Baskin Robbins for Colin’s ice cream treat for staying in bed five straight nights, I hear from the back of the van (for about the 50th time that day) “hey dad”.
After my standard reply of “yes Colin”, I hear (to the tune of Old MacDonald and inaudibly quiet) “Uncle Jeff he has the MEAT SWEATS”. Even when Colin is killing me with his non-listening and somewhat bad behavior, he also kills me with his sense of humor.
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