So I agree that it’s hard to define what exactly is the best in life. That granted, you know? That summer vacation when I was about eleven and had nothing to do except work on this box that was like two feet by two feet by one foot tall and was filled with tagalong rejects? That’s got to be somewhere in the top five of bests ever.
Share this:
Another Blog, Meanwhile 
Isn’t happiness a warm puppy?
LikeLike
Oh, no, I don’t think a warm puppy could eat tagalongs. I’m sure there’s at least something chocolate-inspired in the shell.
LikeLike