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Our son’s personal confession came as we coasted into a parking spot.

“You know, guys,” he said.

We turned our heads.

“I really need a bath tonight.”

We nodded.

“No, really, guys,” he insisted. “I’m all sticked together.”

We opened the van doors and our son leapt out like a dog without a leash.  He sprinted ten steps then halted in front of us.  His legs spread in a “V.”

“Right, here,” he said.  He air-cradled his weenie and the parts around it with both hands.

Then he sucked in his breath and said again. “I’m all sticked together.”


One Response to “Shweaty….”

  1. The Man says:

    That’s my boy.

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