So I realized the other night my dad MIGHT be an insomniac. For those of you just tuning in, I live at home with my two children and my parents -- loving, funny, but often completely irrational and illogical people.
Anyway, on Friday nights my daughter goes to spend the night with her grandparents, which means my breast pump and I get to be best friends ALL NIGHT LONG! YAY ME! I go to bed at 11 and when I get up at 2 am, my dad is up, on his computer, probably talking to Brits and other insomniacs.
Guess what he's doing?
Eating cookies. That's right. He's got the bag of double chocolate crevice cookies that my son has dubbed 'rock cookies' (After a week I'll admit they still tasted great but were quite hard on the outside) and h is chowing down while he squints at his shiny interwebz box in the dark living room.
He doesn't realize I'm on to him. Shhh.
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