This is what happens when you let your 13-year-old text his sister from your phone. Annnnnnd I know this comes as a total shock, but I don’t use my kids’ real names on here, so I’ve edited the screen shot to protect the TOTALLY not innocent.
Dinner at my parent’s isn’t a formal affair, even when they’re lucky enough to have my fake brother (my best friend, Matthew) over for pasta. So there we all were…sitting around the table, while my mother assembled marinara with Italian sausage in the kitchen.
Mom: “Megan, you want extra sauce, right?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
Mom: “No sausage, right?”
Me: “No, thank you.”
Mom: “Matthew, sausage?”
Caolinn: “Oh, Uncle Matthew wants hot Italian sausage alright.”