| wehaveseven @ 2003-08-25 08:06:00 |
| Current mood: |  satisfied |
I DIDN'T BURN THE PORRIDGE.
THE PORRIDGE IS EDIBLE.
I AM THE PORRIDGE MASTER.
There's a bowl for you at the shed door, Molly. And I know those dandelion things are weeds but they look pretty, thought you'd like them.
OFF TO WORK NOW, with quite the satisfied stomach!
PORRIDGE FOR TEA TONIGHT, KIDS.
Comments:
| wehaveseven @ 2003-08-25 03:24 pm UTC |
Mind your mouth, little boy. If you don't have anything worth saying don't say anything at all.
(parent)| potterstinks @ 2003-08-26 01:37 pm UTC |
You ought to advise your entire family of the same. It would certainly save me quite a bit of boredom.
(parent)| wehaveseven @ 2003-08-27 01:06 pm UTC |
Don't you dare speak to my wife in that manner, young man.
(parent)| perfectprefect @ 2003-08-26 01:13 pm UTC |
Father, might I offer a hand? I realise there was a slight mishap the other day, but I daresay I have 'nailed it.'
| wehaveseven @ 2003-08-27 01:09 pm UTC |
Are you debating the decency of my porridge, Percy I.?
(parent)| perfectprefect @ 2003-08-27 05:35 pm UTC |
Of course not, Father; though, now that you mention it, I am not entirely certain that porridge ought to be hard.
(parent)