Y’all…There is something you should know about my husband. It’s about his affinity for..for…for tourist traps. It’s a fact, that this man will stop at every tourist trap within a twenty five mile radius when we are traveling. He adores them. Gold panning – done it. Car Museum – been there. If it has the name Ripley in it I can assure you Billy Claunch has bought the t-shirt.
.Suffice it to say when he went to pick Hank and Stella up from camp and I stayed home with the other kids nothing surprised me about getting these pictures.
Because, of course, he took them to the wax museum.
I mean…
Alright cowboy, step away from Mrs Bullock.
James, the fourteen year old, and I are too cynical for that kind of tomfoolery. Speaking of traps, though, that what I feel like I’m walking into when I argue with James. For example, here’s the kind of claptrap I have to endure from him on a daily basis.
Me, constantly telling him he can’t watch something.
I love his teenage ‘but Mom, what I watch doesn’t affect me’ argument. As if kids haven’t been using that one since the beginning of time. Look at him sitting on that boat…Homefry was probably composing a text to send me asking if he could watch more business I was going to say no to.
Nacho Libre knows what’s up.
Clearly he doesn’t approve of the TV shows James is trying to get approval for them either.