It's not like I feel sorry for you, since you should know better. But whattheheck. I'm willing to give you, Low-On-The Totem-Pole-Government-Employee-Of Mine, a second chance.
As you know, I have a couple of kids who reside in the area-- if I turn off the GPS thingy on my phone, do you still know where I am? And as you also know, they've been getting into tie-dying lately. I've posted about their tie-dying, but I won't expend the energy to search my blog for the links. I'm sure your search algorithm is faster than mine.
Anyway-- The Girls wanted to make their Step-Daddy, Mr. Big Food, a couple of tie-dyed work-worthy shirts for Fathers Day.
By the way, did you find the time to call your dad? Or were you too busy? I know there are a lot of us to keep an eye on. It sucks that you didn't get the day off to spend with your dad.
But I digress. What you did on Father's Day is not my business.
Here's how The Girls presented their tie-dyed Father's Day shirts to Mr. Big Food. |
In case you can't read the signs, they say, "Happy..." "Father's..." Day."
As I've been constructing this post, I've been thinking a lot about you, Low-On-The Totem-Pole-Government-Employee-Of Mine, who's reading this.
Every single one of these folks is flourishing. It's not my business to judge your answer, but I'm still free to ask, "Are you flourishing, Mr./Mrs./Ms/ Low-On-The Totem-Pole-Government-Employee-Of Mine?"
Tie-dying family history is what The Girls do in their spare time. Click to enlarge.
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Be nice. Nothing inappropriate, please.