Every year around this time I get all nostalgic for Shamrock shakes. I don't even like shakes, but something about the minty goodness of a Shamrock shake does it for me. And so the other day I was enjoying a tasty Shamrock shake in the nursery. You-know-who burst in, found it, and slurped it down. I went back to the drive-through three days later for another, and -- addict-style -- hid from my son so I wouldn't have to share. Does that make me a bad mom? Perhaps.
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