Spencer and I were out one afternoon and, not unlike a lot of afternoons (yes, Tamara, even with my directional pointer thingy in my car!), I got myself turned around. I couldn't think of the next street that I should be coming up on, but I thought that when I saw it I would know if I were going the right way ... or not. As we got closer and the letters came into focus, I shouted, "Oh Fruit!" ... because we were indeed going the wrong way and Fruit should NOT be the next street!
Spencer now believes this is my new expletive during times of frustration.
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