Ice Cold

     Angeline and the boys decided to celebrate the beginning of wintertime with a nice, wholesome day of bonding out at the local library.

"Boys, imagine telling your grandkids that libraries were real."

      By wholesome, I mean "flirting with pseudo-Norman Bates". 

"You're a 100 Babies founder? Are you psycho?"

       Since Aaron is a couch potato like Angie, he headed to the nearest computer to get his game on, while Brad hung out around the communal toy box. 

The racers weren't tactile and emotional.

     Just before Angie set down to type her next flop epic, Baby #3 ( . . . and #4 . . . and #5?) finally showed up -- looks like our mom wants a princess of her own, but watermelons are out of the question. The baby bump's appearance even sparked some creative juices!

"A woman from the distant future travels back in time to find out what the hell caused rampant overpopulation."

      Sadly, it seems like the lack of bonding got to Aaron -- he left the library without saying a single word to his mom or brother, and immediately headed home to get some sleep.

"I hope she stays the entire night, or this'll get real awkward real quick."

 
      However, this seems to bother Angeline quite a bit, too:

"Oh, dear God, the onset of crows' feet!"

     Just joking! But . . .  having only at least three ( . . . maybe?) kids in her young adult stage is a tad worrying -- the lack of funds means Fertility Treatment is a no-go for now. Meanwhile, Aaron expresses his inner pyromaniac. 

     It's time for some real family bonding!

Obligatory Frozen reference.

    Thankfully, that heartwarming moment ended soon enough -- it's time to make some cold hard Simoleons. Angeline tends to the Hollands' only cash crop and sold 3 tomatoes:

     Shortly afterwards, she asked Aaron to go to the only non-frozen lake in town and fish his little butt off -- and to sell it all right away.

His reaction. I don't know what the Mona Lisa has to do with it. 

    Away her son goes, just as Angeline's book royalties come in the mail. He's young and broke, he'll get over it.

     Like any mother, Angeline begins to teach Bradley how to speak -- subconscious guilt about not teaching Aaron herself manifesting? (PS - she felt more guilty about not teaching Brad how to talk before putting him  in his crib for the night.)

"A boy's best friend is his mother, right?"

     The good news? Aaron will be going off to his first day of school in the morning, and this'll be the best opportunity to make a happy memory! She even gets up at 6 AM to make pancakes, and gives him advice.

The grime and rust adds to the flavor.

"Drink your school, stay in drugs, and don't do milk, sweetie."

    I'll be perfectly honest -- the day was boring. Outside of selling Aaron's two anchovies and four tomatoes . . .

 . . . Aaron catching his first case of the cooties . . . 

. . . Bradley wearing how to walk . . .

 . . .  and Angeline going into labor, nothing happened. Oh . . . wait.

This is starting to be an average day at the Holland house.