On average, The Boy and I talk about 3-4 hours a night. Sometimes he’ll be on Facebook on his end of the country, and I’ll be on Facebook on my end of the country. Which is apropos, considering it’s how we reconnected with each other. It’s also dangerous, seeing how we’re both 11-year-old boys at heart who enjoy nothing more than hijacking mutual friends’ pages. We also enjoy Ding Dong Ditch, crank calls and flaming dog poo on doorsteps, but I digress.
So now, for your amusement, because it’s late, and I got nothin’, here’s a little something from last night. Read THIS and tell me we’re not perfect for each other. I dare ya.
My apologies for the sloppy Witness Protection Treatment. Meh.