Owen was playing "restaurant" one day. It mostly entailed him walking around the living room and kitchen, propositioning all of us.
"WHAT YOU WANT TO DRINK??!?
Owen's Restaurant!!!
Water!
Milk!
Beer!
Apple juice!"
Sissy pipes up, of course.
"BEER!"
I'm doomed. They're doomed. Wish us luck.
Maybe you should give them some pop. They might offer that instead of beer at their restaurant.
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