A couple of days ago, the boy and I were shopping at Costco. Afterwards, we settled down with our cart in the "restaurant" portion to have a dog and a pop. While we were sitting there, the boy was eying the store, top to bottom, quite seriously. He turned to me and said, again seriously, "When the zombie apocalypse hits, this is where we're coming." it was a safe and yet creepy feeling...
We discussed this apocalypse thing a few months ago...him, his dad and I...I did NOT fare well in the survival department...I just don't have what it takes to survive a dead person who's jonesing for my brains...the score board would read heavily in the dead's favor....my husband, on the other hand, would fare nicely...when the boy asked if he could shoot me if I became a zombie and I was walking towards him, he didn't even flinch..."Heck yea! That's not Deb. Blast her butt." I think that's definitely Hallmark card material...
2 comments:
Your butt is so dead if you're a zombie.
coming or going, it's dead...
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