But I will.
So, congratulations Jarom on turning eighteen minus three.
We ate scones and stuff for breakfast. Which made Reid and Jarom silly Brits,
Lena lose the plot, and Conner not care in the least little bit.
Then the milk joined us, and we were all sufficiently happy. Except Reid, who
was monumentally happy. Emphasis on the mental.
Fifteen year olds are hard to shop for. Add that in with the fact that Jarom is always
hard to shop for, and I just about threw in the TOWEL.
All his fifteen year old hopes and dreams unwrapping right before his eyes.
I think he's happy...
I think he's happy...?
Once you reach a certain teenage year, you don't really care
much about putting effort into blowing out those candles.
An exasperated sigh will suffice.
Once cake and presents were done, we took off to watch the ten thousandth Avengers movie
ever made. It was pretty all right, even with Lena whispering in my ear for two hours
straight how bored she was.
Then the boys had to to come home and sit inches in front of the TV and play some
beloved Zelda... princess of the something or other, I can't even remember the names
of all the stuff my kids are into.
HAPPY DAY JAROM!!!