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brats are not naughty children

We celebrated July birthdays (me, Moon and Sister #3) today at the homestead. I was gifted with oodles of spending money, and I just made two online orders with some of it: a Knitter’s Block (which I’ll have to wait until August to actually get) and a pair of Toms Shoes.

Moon is upstairs playing Guitar Hero III, and I’m thinking about joining her soon. I’m moving slowly because we ate so much uncharacteristic-for-us food today. Brats. Cheeseburgers. Ice cream cake. Regular cake. Blueberry cobbler (excellent, and probably the most nutritious of the offerings).

Somehow Peter is still mobile despite having eaten 3 brats and 4 burgers (or maybe it was 4 brats, 3 burgers). I have a feeling he might not eat again until tomorrow, but I could be wrong.

I guess the whole bottomless-pit-male-teenager thing isn’t just something the writers of Archie and Jughead made up.