Dad and I thought we could got to dinner tonight. You know, since we haven't been in Baltimore together for about a month.
So you slept, you pooped, you ate, we held you. We did everything possible to make sure YOU were taken care of so I could eat in peace. And right after we ordered our food, you had royal breakdown.
And so we got our food to go, and organized the basement instead.
Was that really necessary?
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