At the grocery store, I saw an older gentleman loading his items onto the belt for the cashier. Why exactly did this catch my eye?
Because he unloaded about six boxes of Pop-Tarts from his cart.
Not one box. Not two boxes. Six boxes. At least. There may have been more. I didn’t want to
drool stare too long.
That will be me in 30 years. I hope.
Kiefer should count himself lucky that he found me before that elderly gentleman.
Speaking of Pop-Tarts…Scout’s birthday came and went. This is how we kicked it off: Birthday Cake Pop-Tarts.
Of course, we did cupcakes and frozen yogurt that weekend, too. More pics to come!