tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16237172.post6607649419753718617..comments2008-10-03T10:21:27.072-06:00girlfridayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04750662060280801265noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16237172.post-55080133321986546192008-10-03T10:21:00.000-06:002008-10-03T10:21:00.000-06:00We were totally duped by the "foot surgery" game. <BR/><BR/>I also HATED when Mom napped. I still don't like letting people sleep. Even if I'm tired. I don't really know why. I think maybe I'm still two-years-old at heart."Molly McGee"http://www.blogger.com/profile/06688519490810890179noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16237172.post-82979923636536281072008-10-03T10:07:00.000-06:002008-10-03T10:07:00.000-06:00You know who would appreciate this? My forbearing mother. As a child I never understood the purpose of parental napping. Be up! Be around! Be at my beck and call!<BR/><BR/>Sometimes she was fortunate enough to sneak one in. Usually we were operating on her feet, though. We got all her sewing accoutrements out and would poke and prod at her feet while she tried to sleep. I suspect that she secretly enjoyed this, since it was a child's equivalent of a foot rub.<BR/><BR/>I'm with you on the cheese thing.girlfridayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04750662060280801265noreply@blogger.com