Last week, my husband and I took the whole gang — three kids plus my oldest daughter’s best friend — on a roadtrip down to LA for Spring Break. Seven hours in the car is never a great experience, but now that their ages range from 7-12, it’s getting much less painless. (No one barfed! Not even me)
For our “roller coaster day” at Knott’s Berry Farm, my 12-year-old and her BFF wore a set of Sponge Bob backpacks that were a huge hit with the theme park crowd. My daughter donned Patrick. As we queued up for the first ride, my mom (affectionately known as ‘Gma’ in this group), leaned in and uttered the caption below…
I kid you not. Whenever I’m around, it’s like she’s wearing diabetes-tinted glasses. It’s on the brain. Yet somehow she still can’t remember to stop passing me the bread basket. ‘Cause gluten-intolerance is harder to remember — maybe because there’s no recognizable organ associated with it? Or at least not one that makes for a cute backpack.