so, we arrive home from shopping with bags of stuff to carry upstairs.
me: [ does a fabulous impression of the husband being all martyr-like with 8357902375 bags in my hands ] NO NO IT'S OKAY I'LL CARRY EVERYTHIIIIIING MYSELF
15 year old: oh, are we roleplaying now?
me: yes. yes we are.
15 year old: awesome. we're LARPing!
me: [ gives her the side-eye ]
15 year old: it's live action role playing. [ the "DUH" was implied.]
me: OMG I KNOW WHAT IT IS I HAVE BEEN ON THE INTERNET LONGER THAN YOU'VE BEEN ALIIIIIIIVE
I was about to say omg I've given birth to a total smartarse, but then I remembered I actually didn't. I just RAISED a smartarse instead, which is somehow far more satisfying. I HAVE OVERRIDDEN HER GENETIC CODE, MUAHAHAHAHA.
in other news, I got my lamb photos. even if I did have to hang out of the car window getting rained on to procure them.
I also may have procured an Avengers poster and Thor on blu-ray. not from the lambs, though. THAT'S JUST NOT HOW FARM ANIMALS WORK, OKAY.