The amount of times Boo Bear can drop the F-bomb in front of his grandma, without her even noticing, having cemented his “favorite grandchild” status nearly 20 years earlier.
The amount of times I can smack Boo Bear when his grandma isn’t looking.
The amount of crap Boo Bear had to take back to school with him until I was bumped from the trip by a footlocker.
The amount of words my mother can fit into a 30 minute car ride to her doctors appointment and how fast I’m willing to drive to shorten that 30 minute ride.
The proper amount of hairspray to humidity ratio so that I don’t end up looking like I stuck my finger in a light socket by the time I get to work.
And the amount of baby squirrel snuggles I had left in me until co-worker/fellow squirrel raiser brought this little fella into the office today.
So even though I published the next chapter hours ago, I’ve been too busy playing peekaboo, with a baby squirrel hiding in my hair, to let you know about it.
Thank god the humidity took all of that hairspray outta my hair.
But I lurve him.