Tired. As. Shit. But the Sunday tradition will not be broken. I still bond with moms on these coolout Sundays and do the son thing. Breakfast, wash clothes, lunch, watch football games with pops, fart, shit, dinner, etc. The craziest part about Sunday morning is trying to recoup from Saturday Night's madness. This particular morning was good money tho. Only thing in my system was 2 Advil PM's trying to shake off this Damn left-side rib pain. But Mizzy's crib is calling, I can smell the turkey bacon and veggie omlettes.... I get on you laterz. Won.
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