How was your weekend?

Monday, June 30, 2008, by Sherra

This is not how you are suppose to spend your Sunday afternoon.

One hour and 45 minutes on phone with wireless phone company disputing erroneous charges on your phone bill. The company shall remain nameless as I refuse to give them any publicity - either good or bad - until our contracts are up.

There will be a separate lengthy post at that time since I’m not willing to pay $1000.00 to get out of our five-phone contract. Oh yes, I have it all documented.

I can promise that I have enough material for a bad sitcom.

46 minutes on phone with phone company who provides your internet service because their outage caused your wireless network to stop working and only one computer can send things to the printer now.

Said technical support did attempt to blame computers and printer but I was prepared since computers and printer do work - please let me say this again, s-l-o-w-l-y…

“They all stopped working together when your company had a service outage.”

Seventeen years as a customer and he wanted to send me to the “Fee-based support desk” because my problem was beyond their free basic support. PhilBillPaul asked if paying our monthly bill constituted fee-based support.

If there was any fun to be had it was in relaying back to PhilBillPaul the ignorant canned response of Mr. Tech Support about my problem being out of his scope of service and that I had spent 46 minutes on the phone with him so he could tell me what I already knew when I called. Our printer doesn’t work within the wireless network and yes, it did in fact work with all computers up until their outage.

Thank you for reminding me of the problem I called about 45 minutes ago.

Apparently hearing what he said repeated back to him in my voice must have struck a chord on how idiotic it all was. He offered to overnight a new router to help us “isolate” the problem before we talk to the “fee-based support desk.”

Um, yeah, okay - great idea.

Could we have done that in the first 5 minutes?

32 minutes on the phone with cell phone manufacturer explaining that your teen son’s phone screen is broken and his father was with him when it happened so yes, we are sure it wasn’t from misuse or liquid or being carelessly dropped.

Side note: We happen to be experts on the liquid damage as two phones have gone through the washing machine and one has been dropped in the toilet. All done by teens at our house.

Lucky for us, the phone is under their warranty and of course, you must deal directly with the manufacturer, NEVER the place you actually purchased the phone. That would actually make sense and resemble customer service.

Well, I take that back. PhilBillPaul reminded me that we can pay the unnamed wireless phone company $35.00 to look at a broken phone under warranty.

The good news? I don’t have to make these calls on Monday morning when the hold time lasts into Tuesday. Sometimes I have called and listened to a company greeting that actually recommends that you call back on another day - seems like a staffing issue to me.

The bad news? It felt about the same as spending the day with defensive teenagers who seem to say every single day, “It’s not my fault” and “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maybe I’m still cranky from Sunday.

I swear I start out nice on these calls because I do feel sorry for these people who have these jobs and have to work on Sunday and have people like me call them.

But by the end of the call it is hard to be nice as I am exasperated and exhausted.

I think it is only fair to tell you as I rant about this that many, many years ago I was actually a customer service manager at a cellular company. In fact, it is where I met PhilBillPaul and he was the service center manager at the same company. We do know a thing or two about providing excellent service.

Customer service suggestion:
If companies want to really improve their customer service, how ’bout if they start paying the customer for every minute they have to waste talking to customer no-service whenever they screw up your bill or your service?

One more question:
Is it really that hard to provide excellent customer service?

Maybe I’m just hormonal. So really, how was your weekend?

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Categories: Rants

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Flexible Friday #5
Roger Leroy is not.

Friday, June 27, 2008, by Sherra

Flexible that is.

Well, let me clarify. She is very flexible as an athlete. She is, after all, the one we called our circus baby.

But she does things her way, in her time frame and has always marched to the beat of her own drum.

She is also the dominant twin. “They say” (whoever “they” are) that one twin is typically the more dominant twin. We watched this from the very beginning. She was a tiny bully. She plucked Wizzy’s binky out of her mouth. She scooted and crawled over to Wizzy and took whatever toy she had or was even thinking about having. She learned how to jump and catapult out of her crib and land in Wizzy’s crib and jump on her.

One day I heard Wizzy crying intermittently and I quietly went around the corner to see why and Roger Leroy was hitting her and with a gleam in her eye saying,

“Cye, Wizzy, cye again”

She has overcome the speech impediment but not necessarily her penchant for teasing and tormenting her twin whenever she can.

Stubborn and quirky are words that describe her.

On her first birthday, it took about seven adults watching her and saying “Sit back down” to keep her in her high chair. Even when strapped in, she was a little Houdini baby who could get out of anything.

At one year-old they each weighed 16 pounds. 16 pound tiny people are not suppose to walk.

Or try to climb out of the cart at Home Depot.

Only by God’s grace did I catch the hem of her dress before she hit the concrete floor head first.

Here she is stuck in a toy bucket…

I think she had underwear on but I can’t really remember.

Here she is sleeping with a ball balanced on her eye. PhilBillPhil found her this way and he took this picture.

Are you getting the quirky vibe yet?

Here she is with Silly Putty.

Yep, we have all done that with Silly Putty, haven’t we?

Here she is on our driveway wrapped and tied up in her bedroom comforter…because we always take our bedding outside to play with it on the driveway.

I think they referred to this as the “burrito game” and she would then free herself from all the knots her siblings had tied. This, by the way, was at her request.

She can walk on stilts, bounce down the street on a pogo stick, juggle, ride a unicycle and shoot a basketball and make the shot on the unicycle. She has yet to meet a sport she couldn’t play and excel at.

She is “mama junior” to Scary Baby and has always had a special bond with her. She makes good grades and has an internal drive to do her best. She excels at anything she puts her mind to.

When she’s not irritating her twin sister, they have a lot of fun together.

Like last summer when they went to Tampa. They went over to Luci’s Alzheimer’s facility several times.

She fell in love there.

His name is Oscar.

Another picture I had to frame. Pure joy in both their faces as he gave her a kiss when she went over to tell him goodbye.

And when she’s not being a total jock or an L.C. (Little Crud as PhilBillPaul refers to her) or rolling her eyes at me…

She actually cleans up nicely and is a beautiful young woman.

We love you, circus baby…

P.S. Celebrate with me that The Twin Birthmonth Party is now
OFFICIALLY OVER!!!

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Categories: Finding the Funny, Milestones, Moments, Rants, Raves

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Manic Monday

Monday, June 2, 2008, by Sherra

No need to panic, I’m not actually creating theme days for my postings.

Although panic does rhyme with manic and I’ve been know to pen a poem or two, I’m not in the mood for poetry these days. Lucky for you.

I wondered if “manic” was the correct word for my Monday so I checked to be sure and the synonyms at dictionary.com included frenzied, agitated, and frantic so yes, my word choice does, unfortunately, fit.

I’ve had a very, very Weary Weekend. Teenagers who can’t seem to follow simple directions and/or rules especially when I know these facts…

•They are smart enough
•They are good enough
•They are not hearing-impaired

I know their brains are not fully formed. I know this is a test of my stamina and fortitude. I know that many of you have lived through it and come out on the other side…and you are my inspiration and my heroes.

I also know for those of you not at this season, there is no reason for me to tell you sordid stories that would curl your hair and create stress at what may lie ahead.

Instead, I just take this moment to vent. And thank you for listening and offering support through comments and private emails. Some day, when the teens have left the nest, I’m sure I’ll share the details. Maybe even with pictures.

Yes, however shallow or petty that may seem, it keeps me going because I do need other women to tell me I’m not crazy, unreasonable and there is a life to look forward to after teens.

One other reason for my Manic Monday is that I am in the midst of planning an semi-impromptu birthday trip for my darling twin daughters who will turn 17 in a few weeks.

I’ll reveal where we’re going on Wednesday so half of you can laugh that I’m a nerd and the other half will wish you were meeting us there.

Until Wednesday…thank you for listening.

Popularity: 27%

Categories: Finding the Funny, Rants, Teens

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Little Lesson #6
Day One of Summer

Friday, May 23, 2008, by Sherra

For us, Day One of Summer was officially yesterday.

On Wednesday evening, PhilBillPaul and I enjoyed a lovely dinner out by ourselves and we had an animated discussion on starting the summer off by making a solid, serious plan for regaining control at our house.

Crazy things were discussed like getting our kids to do their chores every day. The chores that we consider a normal part of being a family member.

We got even crazier and thought we would sit down and talk to our lovely children about all of us working together to create a peaceful environment at home. We thought we could all start fresh and have a nice, relaxing summer.

Still trying to help them connect the dots about this simple fact:

“Mom won’t yell if you did the things we’ve asked you to do since you were three.”

We’re tough, I tell you. Here are some of the unreasonable things we keep reminding nagging them about…

“The rules haven’t changed.”

“Beach towels are not to be used as bath towels.”

And my all-time favorite because I just want one place in my whole house untouched by sticky hands and dirty feet…

“Stay out of our bedroom.”

Imagine my delight when we got home to find a water glass on my night stand that wasn’t mine, the TV set at a volume I’ve never listened to in my life and American Idol’s season finale deleted from my Tivo.

Oh yes, Mama Bear said someone has eaten my porridge, slept in my bed and left a big trail of evidence.

I won’t even go into the *story* that we got a.k.a. THE BIG LIE that kept getting bigger.

So our first day of summer was spent contemplating how long two of the three teens are grounded.

So much for our peace treaty.

Okay, I’ll stop now. As you can see, my expectations are way too high. This is all my fault.

Everyone would be a lot happier if I took more Valium and never left my bedroom.

I’ll let you know how Day Two goes…

Little Lesson (LL): The fun never ends.

Share a Little Lesson (SALL): What unreasonable things are you requiring your kids to do this summer? Eating, sleeping and going places doesn’t count.

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Categories: Little Lessons, Rants, Teens, Tweens

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I Have Issues…

Monday, April 28, 2008, by Sherra

No real surprise for those who know me.

For those who don’t, it’s probably not a real surprise either.

I have written about the fact that I have issues.

I have learned to live with most of them. Some require Valium. Some will require more therapy.

I think writing about my issues will be cheaper than therapy.

I truly believe we all have issues. Some of you may not want to admit it. Some of you are just better at hiding them then I am. My kids would like it if I could keep most of my issues to myself.

Before I tackle a specific issue, I’d like to reveal a little about my fashion sense. It is actually related to this post.

(Which could be a separate issue I’m not going to write about today.)

I just wanted to share this t-shirt that screamed “BUY ME, WEAR ME” last year. I had to shut it up so I bought it.

In fact, I bought this shirt last year because it really did speak to me.

The issue of the day is…

SCISSORS.

I have lost count but a pretty accurate estimate of the number of pairs of scissors that I have purchased since becoming a mother is approximately 972. Since The Grunter is 18, that is an average of 54 scissors per year. Yeah, that seems about right.

I have bought them their own. I have color-coded them and announced their purpose. Kitchen. Scrapbooking. School projects. Sewing. Etc.

Call me crazy but I don’t want to open a hermetically sealed package of bacon with a pair of scissors that have glue and other unidentifiable objects stuck to the blades.

Nor do I want to trim a picture with scissors that have bacon fat on them.

I have hidden them. I have bought them in cases of six. I have them in drawers on all three floors of our house.

When I need a sharp, clean pair, do you think I can open a drawer and they are there?

I have found “MY GOOD SCISSORS” on the front porch, the sidewalk, the backyard, the garage, the stairs, their bedrooms, the bathrooms and various other places.

When I was scanning pictures for Scary Baby’s birthday post, I saw a few pictures that gave me some insight into my scissor issue.

The inappropriate use of scissors started at an early age…

Obviously, I was a rookie scrapbooker and must have had a brand new, shiny pair of scissors that I went a little crazy with. I swear my family albums look a lot better now. It takes a little while to develop your own personal style.

Try to ignore the hack job I did on the pictures and instead, focus on the hack job Roger Leroy did on her twin sister’s hair AND her own. I especially love Wizzy’s expression.

Here’s the excerpt from the photo album of 1995:

Roger Leroy’s Hair Salon Now Open Out of Business

Roger Leroy opened up her shop in our basement on January 24. Her “Grand Opening” was followed immediately with her last and only day of business. Mom shut down the shop. It seems that Wizzy was her first customer after she did a trim job on her own bangs. When Wizzy appeared to show her new haircut, it was quite obvious that Rachel had no formal training and was operating without a license which is illegal in Georgia! Mom screamed and cried and cleaned up the hair–the girls collapsed after a busy day.

History repeated itself in 2003.

Excerpt from that album:

Another Humphreys girl discovers that her chosen vocation should NOT be hairdresser! Scary Baby found a pair of scissors and snuck off to her room to trim her bangs. No twin sister to blame this time. Mom didn’t cry this time and Dad called our family hairdresser to do what she could to “disguise” this very uneven trim job. As we already know, it takes a long time to grow your bangs back!

For some odd reason, we bagged up and photographed the hair. I think PhilBillPaul has it saved somewhere with all their baby teeth.
(Those would be his issues, not mine.)

I think you can see why scissors are a touchy subject at my house.

Life Lesson (LL): It is unhealthy for me to covet scissors like I do.

Share a Life Lesson (SALL): Am I all alone? I’d be honored if you share an issue or two so I could at least tell my kids that other moms have issues too…

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Categories: Finding the Funny, Life Lessons, Random Thoughts, Rants

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The Internet Recipe Scandal and
My Mom’s Butterscotch Brownies

Friday, April 18, 2008, by Sherra

I choose not to talk politics or religion here.

Mostly because I started this site so we could share and support one another.

I didn’t start this site to get into any heated debates and I heartily respect other people’s views even when they are different than mine. It’s how I learn. It’s what makes the world go ’round.

It’s also what makes me laugh. Especially when I’m right. Which is often. Just ask PhilBillPaul.

Or you could ask my mom since I was right about the year of the photo.

I was amused when they got into a heated debate this week on The View. If you didn’t hear about this BIG news story, hurry, click on over and get yourself educated about this newsworthy event.

Even if you don’t want to get educated, please click just so you can see
the author’s name. I feel like I’m being stalked by ________s.
Fill in the blank with author’s last name.

The answer is no for those of you asking yourselves if I’m going to stop being immature any time soon…sticking out my tongue as I type this.

I had already planned to share this recipe with you all before I heard about the story.

My Mom’s Butterscotch Brownies are brownies she has made since I was a little girl. They are a lovely change from your regular chocolate brownies and they are a perfect addition when making a brownie tray medley which I’ve been known to do on occasion. Easy and quick, PhilBillPaul whips them up from time to time.

Now because of Cindy McCain and the recipe scandal, I feel I must put a disclaimer here before actually revealing the recipe.

Disclaimer: To my knowledge, my mother has never created her own recipe. She has added and omitted different ingredients to match our family’s taste buds. I have followed that same tradition and customized recipes to match our love dislike of vegetables.

We call them “Family Recipes” because they are the recipes our family grew up loving and were prepared in our home - hence the name “Family Recipes.” I don’t know for sure where her Butterscotch Brownies recipe originated. She may have lifted this recipe right from the pages of a very old and worn Betty Crocker cookbook that looks just like this…

Sidenote & reminder to my mom: Remember, I get the cookbook along with the black cast iron skillet and Grandad’s desk.

I feel better now that it’s in writing on the internet just in case she hasn’t made that clear in her will even though we’ve discussed it dozens of times through the years. I think this will hold up in court; you all are now my witnesses. Thanks.

I’ve done my research and Betty Crocker was not a real person and if she was, she’s dead. General Mills could come after me or my mom. Um, yeah, okay, whatever.

Here’s the thing…speaking only for women (since I am a woman), we trade recipes, share recipes, print recipes, type recipes, email recipes and post recipes. Whenever possible, I give credit as to the origin of the recipe. Many times, I just don’t know or remember. I don’t think any of us are trying to plagiarize or steal anyone’s original recipes.

Relax people. Share the recipes. Share the love. Journalists: Find a news story worthy of reporting and more importantly, worthy of our time!

Next week I might get really wild and share my Aunt Jane’s Brownie recipe. Who knows who she stole it from. My mom and my Aunt Jane have a long history of theft and deception.

Until then, bake these this weekend and enjoy!

Our way: We usually double this one and bake in a 13×9″ pan since there are six of us. The top has a thin crispy-like layer and they are gooey underneath. Don’t overbake!

My Mom’s Butterscotch Brownies

• 1/4 C margarine, melted
• 1 C light brown sugar
• 1 egg
• 3/4 C flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp vanilla

Cream margarine, sugar and egg. Add dry ingredients; mix well. Spread in 8×8″ or 9×9″ well-greased pan. Bake at 350º for 25 minutes.

 Print This Recipe

Popularity: 71%

Categories: Food, Rants

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Mean Mom vs. Nice Dad

Monday, April 7, 2008, by Sherra

I’m a Mean Mom.

PhilBillPaul is a Nice Dad.

Our roles have been clearly defined for many years.

My role as the mean mom has become extraordinarily difficult during these teen years.

Valium difficult.

I won’t go into a play-by-play of all my meanness this weekend. I’ll save it for another post.

Suffice to say, “I am mean and always say no and am always in a bad mood.”

I’m paraphrasing one of the teens’ rant with tears about how mean I am. The only thing she the darling didn’t say is that I’m mean.

Some day I’ll also go into detail about how Nice Dad just wants “everybody to be happy.”

Which is a beautiful sentiment. Really it is.

He was put here on earth to make me look even meaner.

I often fantasize about living in a crappy little apartment (crappy little beach cottage would be even better) and letting Nice Dad and the teens live in funland and squalor.

I’m not saying I would abandon my family–they could most certainly come visit me.

PhilBillPaul could even call and come pick me up for a date.

I would be willing to work them all into my busy schedule.

My therapist didn’t think this was such a keen idea when I ran it by her last week.

But then again, she doesn’t live at my house, now does she?

Just thinking out loud here. (sigh)

I dream of little things like…

• Clean dish towels with no dried food on them
• My scissors and tape being in the drawer where I put them
• A coffee table that doesn’t have sticky I-don’t-know-what-on-it
• More than 3 squares of toilet paper in the guest bathroom
• Not tripping on anything when I go up or down the stairs

I’m showing my shallow side. I know this.

I have issues. i know this too.

Just venting because I’m sure I’ll feel better if I just SHARE this with you.

And I wonder if anyone else feels this way?

And the Valium doesn’t seem to be working…

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Categories: Random Thoughts, Rants, Teens

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Little Lesson #4 Kids & Clothing

Wednesday, April 2, 2008, by Sherra

Here’s a little wardrobe management tip for those of you with kids young enough to instill some positive, early habits that will serve you all well through high school (hopefully).

With all four of my kids, I have found much success with starting them young on appropriate clothing selection. I’m sure another mother gave me this sage advice but with old age comes a fleeting memory.

Early, before our kids’ school went to uniforms (amen - I’m a huge uniform advocate - I would lobby for them in any school at any age!) we selected school clothes and after school/weekend clothes. Initially, we had separate drawers but then I found this marvelous invention.

Don’t ask me why there is a teddy bear in the Monday cube. I guess you can use it to sort toys?

There were several reasons this system worked great for us:

• It eliminated any early morning battles because mama doesn’t function well in the morning.
• It established a night time routine where they always needed to have their outfit ready for the next day including shoes and socks.
• It was visual so dad could handle the system when mom wasn’t home.
• It set clear expectations for what they could and couldn’t wear to school.
• It was non-negotiable.

We did allow them to have a few of the character or shirts with writing that were not deemed appropriate for school. Nothing mean or nasty, mind you. Rather, the humorous or smartie pants shirts that I’m sure you’ve all seen.

They could wear these on the weekends or they could be sleep shirts.

Side note: The Grunter might just have a shirt that says “I love my wie#%r” with a graphic of a wiener dog. Ann’s son might have received the same shirt as a birthday gift from our family. I’m just saying they might…

I’ve had lively discussions with other mothers about their strong belief in letting their children pick out there own clothes and express their individuality.

Lucky for all of us, we all live in the land of the free and are entitled to our opinion.

Here is mine.

Forget about expressing their individuality. I always said they have PLENTY of time to do that when they get home and on the weekends. Make teachers’ lives easier. The clothing kids are wearing these days is ridiculous.

In addition, uniforms eliminate stress and the competition at school over labels and brands which I’ve always found ridiculous.

Did my kids love uniforms? No. Did I care? No.

They aren’t suppose to love everything. They don’t really love the uniforms they are required to wear for their part-time jobs. They aren’t really allowed to express their individuality at work either. Go figure.

This is the first year that I don’t have any kids in uniforms. I’m grateful that the clothing system was ingrained early in the big kids’ lives. The girls have their outfits out the night before and it is a huge timesaver since they leave the house at 6:30 a.m. (However, they have abandoned their cube organizer.)

Scary Baby has her organizer hanging in the corner where dad mounted it so we can all see that she has her outfit ready. It’s a great week if she actually picks her outfits for the whole week on Sunday night but that doesn’t always happen.

Many stores sell these great organizers. Try Target or Kohl’s.

If your school doesn’t require uniforms, you as the parent, can and should go over what clothing is appropriate for school and then stick to it.

Every school has a dress code and adhering to that dress code is the responsibility of all of us.

From elementary to high school, I continue to be shocked and appalled at some of the “get-ups” I see kids go to school in.

Our kids’ job is to go to school and be a student. Our job as parents is to make sure they are dressed appropriately and I don’t think that should be the subject of a big debate.

Common sense is the answer.

That’s my opinion…what’s yours?

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Categories: Little Lessons, Rants, Teens, Toddlers (& babies), Tweens

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Husbands and housework

Friday, March 7, 2008, by Sherra

Have you heard? Groundbreaking news about the relationship between men and a mop and their universal primary love language:

Physical Touch.

I hope our tax dollars weren’t used to fund this report. They could have just asked PhilBillPaul. He learned the value of mopping the kitchen floor and doing laundry early in our marriage.

1991 was a banner year for us when I made a few suggestions that I felt would really benefit our marriage:

• Relax and decompress on your drive home in traffic, by yourself, in a quiet car with no one saying “Hey Daddy Hey Daddy Hey Daddy.”
• Walk in the door ready to grab one to three babies and spend quality time with your children.
• Be grateful that I am here to provide childcare for you all day while you worked hard outside of the home because I was working hard all day inside the home. (aka the hardest job on the planet.)
• If you don’t agree with any of the above suggestions, please leave and go live in your car because I don’t need a grown-up baby to take care of and I’m keeping the house.

He decided to stay.

He’s a great dad.

He cleans. He cooks. He does laundry. He is tired.

But who isn’t? This parenting gig is hard work for all of us.

We parent together. Because that’s our job since we *planned* to have four children.

If you have a husband, this article might interest you.

Click here to read more about housework and a happier marriage.

If you have a husband and need reinforcements; this book was mentioned in the article, could be helpful and even better, it is written by a man.
I haven’t read it but I like the title…

The Lazy Husband: How to Get Men to Do More Parenting and Housework

Forget perfume and roses. Give me a man in an apron with pine-sol and a toilet bowl brush. Woo-hoo!

Let me know what you think and I dare you to comment on how the housework division of labor is going at your house…

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Categories: Finding the Funny, Love Languages, Rants

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Lord, please help my trashy daughter

Monday, March 3, 2008, by Sherra

Wizzy couldn’t wait to tell me this Sunday night when she got home.

Roger Leroy has been eating trash.

She rushed into my bedroom to tell me how gross her twin sissy is.

As I mentioned, Roger Leroy cleans a large church near our home on the weekends. Wizzy is required to help her since she is still on “lockdown” from the principal’s phone call incident.

Here’s Wizzy’s version of what happened–I’ll give Roger Leroy time for an optional rebuttal next week…

Wizzy said “She called me into another room with an excited voice like she found something really cool.” The cool thing she found was a bread tray left in one of the Sunday School rooms.

“Look what they left for the janitors!” Roger Leroy exclaimed.

Wizzy said “Eww.” When her twin popped a slice of raspberry bread in her mouth, Wizzy was so grossed out that she had to leave the room. Roger Leroy called her back and said the lemon bread was much better than the raspberry.

On to the next room. Oh, pay dirt. (no pun intended)

She found fruit in a plastic container on top of the trash can. (Which I pointed out is technically IN the trash, it was just on top because the trash can was FULL.)

Yum, cantaloupe. (I didn’t even know she liked cantaloupe.) She licked the kiwi and didn’t care for it. She grabbed the lone grape and ate it.

Next, she spied a jug of orange juice on the floor next to the trash. Apparently her snack of bread and fruit had made her thirsty. She swigged the last bit of juice down. Wizzy thought she was kidding until she “heard it swishing in her mouth.” (These are Wizzy’s words, not mine.)

All these years of parenting. All these years of teaching. All these years…how did we get to this place?

Maybe I could understand this if she was scouring the trash for vegetables because of the deprivation and serious shortage of greens at our house.

Then again, I still don’t think I would understand…

Noble job: Cleaning the church.

Not so noble: Eating the trash at the church.

Cleaning the church and eating the trash makes for two tired twins.

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Categories: Finding the Funny, Moments, Rants, Teens

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