So far we have attempted to have a Super Bowl Sunday at our home just once, and you may remember the upstairs flooding caused by Eddie when he rebelled at having to wear socks by flushing all of his little sport socks down the toilet.
Well, we’re trying again. But this year, we’ve got it under control. We invited the plumber to share the occasion with us.
A little hand tugged at the leg of my jeans. “Mommy, cars don’t float.”
“Mommy!” Mel raced down the stairs and pointed an accusing finger at her brother. “He…he…”