At lunchtime to Flynn: Your sandwich is not a monster truck jump.
At snack time: Your cookie is not a monster truck jump. See, I was too specific at lunchtime in regards to what does or does not constitute a monster truck jump, thus creating endless potential for all remaining foodstuffs to become said jump.
But the kicker for the day: Flynn, Mommy is not your personal Kleenex. Please go get a tissue from the box.
*sigh*
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