On line at the supermarket this afternoon, Ryan pointed out a "big red spot" on the side of my face. As I thanked him for pointing out my flaws and rearranged my hair to cover the zit, he pulled a reusable shopping bag over my head.
"It's not that bad!" I laughed, removing the bag.
He silently put the bag back on my head.
It was open school night.
"The Open House starts at 6," I told him.
The entire time we were in his school, Ryan kept looking for a house, asking where the Open House was, asking when the House would close...
At bedtime, Ryan was complaining about a hurty spot on his foot, and something-or-other on his arm, and Lord-knows-what on his head.
"Boy, you have 99 problems," I declared.
"I have 99 problems? If I had one more problem, I would have 100 problems! Because 99 plus one equals one hundred! And I do not want to have 100! That is a really big number!"
"Yes," I replied, "You've got 99 problems but addition ain't one."