So it wasn’t my wife who texted me, but I’ll be honest, I actually stared at this for a solid clueless minute before I replied. I guess I was trying to wring some kind of sense out it, like it was some kind of ancient Egyptian scroll of hieroglyphs my wife had written in emojis.
I was really tired, okay. I just didn’t think my 4.5-year-old knew how to get into my wife’s text messenger, let alone create digital murals with emojis. The fact that I had’t already received 18 bazillion text’s from my littlest son sort of lulled me into a false sense of security. Well, now I know.
I just realized that after this text, though, now if my wife sends me one of those lazy mutant texts we sometimes send, I’ll probably just text back, “Give your mom her phone back, lad.”
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Here’s one of the most stressful things a human being can endeavor to do.
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