Grammy got Bubble Guns.
These things freakin’ rock.
No spilled bottles of the loathsome bubble juice AND you can produce ass loads of bubbles.
And the Bubble Gun fight ensued.
Of course my children shun clothing, opting to be “naked in our underwear.”
Grand Master H was wearing his Captain America boxer briefs and Baby C wore her polka dot Calvin Klein panties, of course! What the heck do YOU wear for a Bubble Gun fight? Chaps?
A little smile for your Friday.
The unbearable cuteness…I am dying from it.
You are welcome.