Crichton's Infamous Comic

I locked myself in my room, no wifi, to finish my assignments for my degree. Crichton knocks on the door.

"I sent you and email."

I get up and open the door,"What?"

"I sent you an email of that comic."

"Why? Ohh, you want me to post it?"

He smiles shyly and nods.

"Okay, thanks." 

We both smile conspiratorially (cuz I told him my professed "hate" was a joke, just exaggerating. It's totally against the rules of motherhood to really hate anything your baby creates).

So, here ya go. (And his glasses of lemonade look way better than my forgeries.)