At 35, you said we’re going to get treats. At 36, you clarified that they would be yummy. Then 37 came along and you reiterated the treat promise. At 38, I started to doubt this whole situation. So 39 is it. This is my Waterloo. I shall not move from this spot until a treat has been delivered directly to my mouth. (Michael S)
Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash