Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Day 313- Sorry Dad!

My poor father.

When we were growing up he had to literally chain his hairbrush to one of the cabinets in his bathroom just so he could guarantee it was in the same place each morning.

We stole his white under shirts, plaid shorts, and socks.

I am pretty sure he probably opened the pantry and refrigerator multiple times and sighed in exasperation over the lack of cereal, bread, ice cream.

No amount of apologizing could ever make up for the fact that he had to witness his three daughters become teenagers.

Sometimes Doug walks around the house muttering to himself, "people need to stop messing with my stuff".  Between me, the kids, and our nanny he doesn't stand a chance.

And it is just getting started.

I am sure there will be a chained up hairbrush in my future.








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