Existence

A couple good friends and their two little girls came out to Ten Sleep last weekend to hunt for coyotes and shoot some prairie dogs. The coyote hunt didn't prove to be a success, but we had a blast shooting prairie dogs and Jared and I both really enjoyed having new faces and extra bodies around to keep us company.

(Hint, hint, friends and family!)

After the hunting fun on Saturday, we came back to our place for lunch. The girls hit the kitchen, and the guys hit the Xbox....which I refer to as the widow-maker and/or the worst invention known to women. Except when Rock Band is involved, of course.

During the lunch-making and the Xbox-time-wasting-brain-cell-destroying-worst-invention-ever commotion, one of the little girls wrote the following on our white board.

Without any encouragement or suggestion from me, I might add.

Translation:

Anne and Jared do not really exist because Jared plays that game and because they kiss!

******

Take out the kissing part and....well, I couldn't have said it better myself.