I went to the zoo with my kids. And it must be like this, a friend calls:
- The neighbor cuts rabbits, I brought a couple as a mother of many children, and I can't cook them, they are tough - a capsicum... Prepare them?
I say:
- Nor is it special, the husband cookes, of course, meat, like all men... in wine, it seems. See also.
Close to Jasper:
Who will bring?
The rabbit is cooking.
The rabbit?
Meat of rabbit.
and Mom!! and cry:
It was not I who killed him! He was a meat breeder! Have you ever thought that we eat chicken - and that was also a live chicken that ran?
Jasper thought a little:
“Mom, when I die... you won’t be me... that... that... :oops: :oops:
Woooot...
The march to the milk store ended with a long religious and gastronomic lecture of psychotherapeutic focus.