Warning Label

I was recently reminiscing with Jake about all the warnings he used to create and post. He’d draw signs and tape them to his bedroom door. He’d surround his Lego projects with threatening notes to the cleaning crew– they usually had a skull and crossbones at the top. We credit Pokémon for Jacob learning to read… and threatening adults for why he learned to write.

I got to thinking this blog may need its own warning label. One of my friends read a post during hospice and thought I was changing careers to become a nurse. Making me realize that I must warn all my readers that I use a lot of sarcasm. Like a LOT. I like observational and self-deprecating humor. And clever repartee. And puns. If it gives you pause… I’m usually joking. Sometimes I’ll tell you. Sometimes I like the idea of making you squirm. So for my more literal readers… I’m most definitely not planning to become a nurse… and Genevieve is a beautiful bathtub.

After my last post I got the best text from our friend. It makes me smile to know he and his wife are reading this blog…

By the way we love your new tub and we thought for a second you were dating a woman <crying laughing emoji crying laughing emoji>

Which would be fine except please not a French <crying laughing emoji>”

He’s Italian. <crying laughing emoji>

And I got ’em good.

Consider yourselves warned…

Sign by Jacob dated November 7, 2015 (age 6): “Dead or else… No parents allowed”
November 6, 2015

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