Sunday night we were all around the dinner table eating our Sunday dinner. Things are going smoothly and we are all having a bit of fun.
About two thirds of the way thru our meal their was a silence in between conversations. Just then we heard the sound of the ice maker in our refrigerator drop a load of ice in the ice tray. That’s what it does, right? Nothing new there?
Dylan looks up from her meatloaf, her eye brows are all bunched together and breaks the silence, “Daddy, I think the refrigerator just pooted!”
Mommy and I just looked at each other and smiled. “Eat your dinner Dylan”.