Except it’s fleece wasn’t white as snow. And no, she can’t keep it. The end.

And afterward he got in his blue car and drove to eat blue snowcones while painting a blue picture. With blue.

Found this today. It’s like stumbling across an old 8-track tape in the back of your glove box.

In order to fit the Great White Beast into the garage, we had to completely reorganize all of our junk precious belongings. As you might expect, this ultimately led into Steve playing the trumpet. What? This doesn’t happen in your house? Ha. You should see what happens when we clean the gutters.