Rob Story
One day when Rob was about three years old, he came to me and said that he wanted to play “winkin wogs”. I’m sorry but my brain must have been kinked or fried. I could not guess what “winkin wogs” was. I should really have been able to understand him because he didn’t say his L’s for a while. Lincoln Logs. Duh!!!!
1 comment:
Mom...I can totally relate to those days when you are so tired, your mind seems fried, and the things that should come easily, are the hardest to figure out. That is the price of motherhood I'm afraid. I love that you are writing stories of your "previous" life. I have probably heard most of them, but now I can copy and paste them for my records. Thanks so much!! I love you.
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