wine grew on trees. Oh what a happy world it would be. Right?
Reminds me of that Depression-era song on the “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” soundtrack: Rock Candy Mountain, where there are cigarette trees, the jails are made out of tin, etc.
There are two sick pups in the house and one very busy dad. Where does that leave the MomZombie? Dreaming of wine trees . . .