The other day I was driving the children to church on a Friday morning.
As were were riding along, B says to me “Mama! Stop bumping!" Stop bumping da car!”
And then I laughed and laughed and laughed.
You see, roads here aren’t exactly smooth. Very rarely is there a stretch of road without pothole, open manhole, divit, speed bump of all shapes and sizes, remnants of trenches dug in the past or present… basically there’s always something to swerve around or bump over top of.
Mr. B apparently had enough of it. Which I can understand.
But sadly for him, there is no way around!
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