We had a box of brownie mix from Costco. My tastebuds worked, so I wanted some. Carrie was nice enough to make them.
Shane didn't want much. Sometimes Shane will say he doesn't want/like something, because he wants something else (or he'll decide ahead of time). He tried the brownies, so he knew what these tasted like, though.
"Really!?" I asked.
Nope. He wasn't a brownie fan.
Carrie looked at me. "That's not my genetics."
"It's not mine, either!" I replied.
Where on Earth did Shane get the anti-brownie gene from?
Probably Nana.
Which left more brownies for the normal people.
That's my boy! Brownies look like poop! You wouldn't see me even tasting them! Yuck, yuck, yuck! So happy to finally see myself in one of you kids and grandkids!
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