"Look, Mama! We made a paper boat in class today!" she says excitedly at pick up.
"COOL!" he yells, snatching it out of her hands. "Can I have it?!?"
"NOOOOOO!" she screams. [insert typical sibling fisticuffs here]
"But Maaaammmmaaaa," he pleads, once the bleeding has stopped and they're both doubled over panting, "I want one, tooooo."
Clearly.
So, I assure him that I've made plenty of paper boats in my time. No problem at all. We'll make one as soon as we get home.
Two. Hours. Later.
Frickin' papers crumpled all over the living room floor scattered amongst the clumps of hair I'd pulled out of my own head in frustration.
"Aww..." she says, looking at me sadly, "if only there were instructions somewhere."
DING! DING! DING!
It's just a paper boat. I really didn't think I'd need instructions, for goodness sakes, but there ya go. You may now rest in peace and comfort knowing assuredly that you really don't ever have to recall anything ever for the rest of your lives, so long as you remember how to Google.
...
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