(One of my mother's friends texted me this one while Mopsy was gone at a quilting retreat, and I thought it needed to be immortalized on shotsnaps.)
I took these picture for Roberta and then forgot to send them to her. Poor Ransom-- all conked out and covered in radioactive cheese dust after a long day of partying at the Parseghian's estate.
Here we go again.
When she makes faces like this, this nut-brown, dark-eyed, Owen child is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT MINE. John probably got confused and thought that I was sending him selfies.
Many thanks for your posts! I read them all during lunch break at work and they make me happy. Now back to making coffee!! ♡
ReplyDeleteIs this a-- comment-- which I see before me, the words toward my mind? Come, let me read thee over and over again.I wrote thee not, and yet I see thee still!
ReplyDelete(With apologies to my buddy Macbeth for mangling his dramatic soliloquy.)
Look, it's a comment I did not write from myself to myself! Happiest of mornings!
Thanks, sweetie! Now go grab yourself a bacon-stuffed sandwich. 😘💚