My 3 Monsters: A Shocking Realization

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A Shocking Realization

Riley has a friend whose family reminds me of the Flanders family. The dad is the kind of guy who would say, "Hidely Ho there neighbor," or, "Good morning, good afternoon, and, in case I don't see you, good evening". The mom is very much the same. Nice, nice people. Just the kind of folks you'd want your kid spending time with. But they couldn't be more different from us. I'm sure they would never giggle when their son farted at the dinner table. I guarantee their kids don't walk around in their boxer-briefs for the better part of half an hour after their baths. I don't think she's ever fed her kids brownies for dinner. (Ummmmm . . . we were all much younger, none of us were diabetic, and Brent worked until 9:00 every night. Don't you judge me.) And surely they don't drink milk straight from the carton. (You've been warned.) Thinking about it today, I came to the shocking realization . . . if they are the Flanders, what does that make us?

So sad.

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