Nearly washed my iron pill down with the vanilla.
Yeah. Not quite awake I guess.
And I don't suppose they'll appreciate those muffins I got up early to make either.
Unless they remember that I walked all around the yard last night, climbing up and down scary thistle covered rises and in and out of thorn laden bushes to pick the wild Saskatoon and raspberries that went into those muffins.
Or if they realize I made them with all white flour and sugar.
Maybe when they understand that I got up at 6:45 on a Saturday morning (because some of them said they were starting work at 8:00) to make them fresh berry muffins that I won't be helping them eat...
How do I love they? Let me count the ways:
One berry muffin, two berry muffins, three berry muffins, four berry muffins...