a few mornings ago, william and i were sitting across the table from each other eating breakfast. he was eating his cereal and reading the comics while i was eating my toast and reading the sports page.
william: "mama, what does whore mean?"
me: choking on my breakfast..."what?!?"
william: "whore. what's it mean?"
me: "what are you talking about? where did you hear that?"
william: "on your shirt. it says happy whore."
me: "no, bud. that's hour. happy hour."
and now my favorite shirt has a whole new meaning.
(and miss dennis...you've still got some work to do!!!) :)