Since June began, we've been eating most of our meals on the picnic table on the back deck. Henry and Erin spent most of last night's supper working on their routines.
Erin, upon getting her fourth black fly bite, got a little frustrated at why they seem to like her so much. I told her I'd read somewhere they're attracted to pregnant women.
Me: Pheromones, I guess.
Erin: It's not fair-imone.
A few minutes later, Henry was trying to find a way to be too sick to finish his tomato and lentil soup, but not too sick for dessert.
Henry: Ugh. My tummy is feeling...... ice cream sandwichy.
At this point, Erin high fived him and declared theirs the "hilarious side of the table."
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