The crunching sound made me panic a bit and say some choice words that Ezra had never heard before.
"Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit.", he repeated from his chair in the backseat of my mom's Nissan Murano.
He was only missing the H.
I pulled forward and proceeded to freak out some more.
"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no., I said.
"O no. O no. O no.", he said.
I hopped out of the car. Then back in. Then back out again. I didn't know quite what to do.
"Mamma! Fix it, mamma! Mamma, fix it!", shouted my concerned son.
My parent's garage door will never be the same.
8 comments:
De-lurking! Got here through Shannon's blog and I must say, your son is gorgeous and I loved the story of you and your hubby.
Sorry about the door!
Miss
http://ruraandmiss.wordpress.com
Holy crap! That stinks :(
highlight of the trip? maybe not. something you're not likely to forget and will laugh about later? oh yeah!
Oh sit!
That's not good.
Oh, so sorry! Ugh, I know that feels awful.
Sit sit sit. That's funny though!
I always blame the swear words on the dad. The "sit" is pretty funny.
MY SON LEARNED THAT SAME WORD FROM HIS MOM....MY LAST GARAGE DOOR WAS NEVER THE SAME EITHER
in other news, he sure does look adorably cute in that jacket and those amazing lashes
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