In the time-frame of two hours on Sunday night, my daughter told me that she would never want to take a vacation with me again. My middle son fretted over the number of gray hairs on my head. My youngest son pronounced my stomach, "Jiggly." My oldest son sat his soaking wet self down on the computer chair and never thought to tell me before I sat down after him ... AND ... my spray-on tan produced slightly blotchy knees and one orange hand.
How was your Sunday?