Wednesday, August 7, 2013
8/6/2013 Evening
"I don't want those chips anymore. They are too spicy. They gave me a hooster tongue."
8/6/2013 Early Afternoon
Jackson: MOM! Where are the scissors?
Me: No way! You are not getting scissors. What do you want to cut?
Jackson: Your hair.
Me: Wai...What?! No! Why?
Jackson: I'm a barber. That's my work.
Me: Don't cut people's hair, Jackson. I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you that.
Jackson: Then how will I make money for pizza?
Me: By asking for a pizza for dinner. You are four years old. Now get away from my hair.
Me: No way! You are not getting scissors. What do you want to cut?
Jackson: Your hair.
Me: Wai...What?! No! Why?
Jackson: I'm a barber. That's my work.
Me: Don't cut people's hair, Jackson. I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you that.
Jackson: Then how will I make money for pizza?
Me: By asking for a pizza for dinner. You are four years old. Now get away from my hair.
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