I had to fire up the laptop after I just put it to bed (on my way to bed) to post this one:
While taking out my contacts in the bathroom, my bleary-eyed Jonas walked in. The cute as humble pie one.
"Mom, I'm thirsty."
I take a quick survey of the counter and see, as I suspected, no cup, no glass, no container of any kind.
"I don't have anything to drink with in here, Honey. Could you use your hand?" We do the hand-becomes-cup thing often after teeth-brushing. No, we're not proud.
"How about my mouth?"
Oh. Yeah. Why didn't I think of that?
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