Yesterday, Antique Daddy and I were going somewhere in the car where I was entertaining him with a fascinating story about going to the doctor to get bloodwork done. Sean, whose Indian name is “He Who Speaks His Mind” was in the backseat taking it all in:
Antique Mommy: And then when I called the doctor’s office blah blah blah complain insurance gripe complain yack, can you believe that blah blah complain blah blah, so I then said to the nurse blah blah yack gripe yack yack when she said –
Sean: Mommy. Stop. Talking.
Antique Daddy: Why are you looking at me like that?