When I picked up Mac from school on Monday, I asked him if anybody said anything about the birthday party. He said "yes, they were all talking about it." I asked what their favorite part was.
The scavenger hunt?
The storyteller?
The s'mores?
The campfire?
Wrong on all counts.
It was that blasted chicken snake.
Next year, we do nothing but unleash a bunch of snakes around a hay ride wagon. No other entertainment needed.
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