Before we went looking for furniture last night (FOR THE SEVEN HUNDRETH TIME WITH STILL NO DECISION MADE) we stopped at Steak Escape to grab some quick dinner.
As we sat there, Izzy started swinging his feet and kicking the table.
"Sweetie, stop kicking the table," I tell him.
He looks up at me with those kind baby blues, smiles an angelic smile, and says so sweetly, "You'll get used to it."
No comments:
Post a Comment