“And on the third day, God created tamales.”
You always tried to sneak past the kitchen when you got a whiff of some fresh tamales…
…but then your mom would catch you, complain about how she does “everything around here,” and then made you help.
You either helped her out with a big ol’ “smile” on your face…
…or you managed to fuck it up somehow…
from Tumblr http://ift.tt/259Wt3O
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