A family of three tomatoes were walking downtown one day when the little baby tomato started lagging behind. The big father tomato walks back to the baby tomato, stomps on her, squashing her into a red paste, and says, "Ketchup!"
Swinging from one extreme to the other, either busy or vegging, orderly or cluttered, meals par excellence or insta-food, schoolwork all day or not at all. Good thing my husband is well-balanced.
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