And now he’s agitated about the midterms. Mommy is supposed to be home by three o’clock these days, midway between the noon nap and dinner time. Where the hell is she?
You should hear the mournful groan that goes with the pic.
What he’s trying to say is that I, Instapunk, am not doing enough to support the Republicans in the midterms. Either that or he’s sulking about not getting ravioli because it’s here and Mommy, the great dispenser of queenly largesse, is not here.
One of those. You really should hear his moans. Heartbreaking. Nobody gets that upset about ravioli. Why I’m sticking with my story. Otherwise he’d be nothing more than a giant mama’s boy.
The ravioli does smell good, though.