Recently, Grant informed me of the speed limit of every street I covered.
“Mom, the speed limit is 45.”
Ok, Grant.
“Mom, the speed limit is 35.”
Ok, Grant.
“I like to know the speed limit. I don’t know, Mom, if you really ever look at it.”
Well, not as much as you do, I can tell you that.
“Mom, the speed limit is 45. You need to go up 5 more.”
Actually, Grant, that is the upper limit of what you are supposed to drive. You can be below it as long as you are still being safe.
“Oh.”
“Mom, the speed limit is 45.”
Yes, and I am on it, Grant, right on the dot.
Viewing from the passenger seat at that angle: “No, you’re not.”
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGG!
For rent, cheap: Mini-cop.
Cute as a button
but annoying as you-know.
He'll make some young bride very happy someday... I think that's what we said when Gary was that age!
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