(no subject)

Zach and I are making dinner and having a wonderful time together in the kitchen. I have him on potato duty.

"Whipped or mashed?"

"Which do you like better?" I ask.

"Mashed? I kinda like them lumpy like my mom made them..."

I'll have to keep that in mind. "Sounds good to me," I smile and hand him the potato masher. "Think you can handle it?" I teas him with a wink.