"Who asked for Monday?"
"Who asked for Monday?"
Not I said the chicken, but my laundry is sorted and I’m about ready to head for the laundry room. This is not a good morning.
Accordian to the weather-beeber, it’s 46 and cloudy. I don’t want to go wash clothes, but I have to. Somehow, all my washcloths have gone walkabout, and I have three left out of six that came in the set. That’s not good. It’s hard to misplace something that is bright yellow.
It's monday already?
Run, run away!