Shutterbug
“Is that a dead bug?” Jill asks, squinting.
“Where?”
“Right there, under the lamp.”
I answer, “Oh, that. Yeah.”
“Why is it there?”
“I put it there.”
“But why did you put it there?” she persists.
“Because I wanted to put it somewhere where the boys wouldn’t mess with it, and where you wouldn’t see it?”
“Uh-huh…”
“…because I want to take a picture of it.”
“You want to take a picture. Of a dead bug.”
“I think it’s a stinkbug.”
Crying LMFAO at:
“You want to take a picture. Of a dead bug.”
“I think it’s a stinkbug.”