On Saturday we were taking a drive, looking at some houses, and getting ice cream.
Can we listen to some children's music?
SYNC please say a command.
Clocklate milk! SYNC please say a command.
Clocklate milk!
A few minutes of silence, or rather children's music.
Buttcack. . .
Buttcack. . .
Buttack. . .
Shake you boobie!
No, it's Shake Your Groove Thing.
Shake you boobie!
Simon, no it's Shake Your Goooooove Thing!
Shake you boobie!
Abigail just let him be and listen to your music.
(For those of you waiting for Chris to be repeated in awkward situations. It has happened, often, and usually he is absent. Yes, ladies in or from our stay in Michigan it is time to laugh.)
Monday Chris's parents offered to take the children to the avairy. We were going to meet them halfway between Uniontown and Pittsburgh. On the way. . .
Does God live in a dark and gloomy place?
Where does Jesus live?
Yeah, I know it is heaven. Why is He making us a place? Heaven is already done.
Why do we need a new earth?
Will Jesus live with us on the new earth or will He stay in heaven?
Jesus and God are the same, right?
What is a mystery?
Poor Simon didn't even have time to interject buttcack or shake you boobie till the last five minutes of the thirty-five minute drive.
This home of ours is quite a noisy place. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
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