So I come home around 5 AMish one morning last week to find Zombie Boy, otherwise known as Charlie, stumbling around in the kitchen. I checked to make sure the glass pot was under the maker in case he was in the middle of making a brew... can't tell you how many towels are stained because Zombie Boy forgot to put the carafe back in... the pot was there but just before I could sigh easily, I watched him wobble around like a butterfly trying new wings as he tried to wake up from his night medicine. He was leaning over a sandwich on the counter trying to eat it. Things were dripping from the bread.
With his eyes closed and his jaws chewing he said, "I thought I was putting jelly on my peanut butter but it turned out to be chocolate syrup." (Kathryn)
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