Dreaming of the Good Life

Jeremy and I were talking about the number of kids we want to have.
I know this seems shocking but get over it.
It was hypothetical. Chillax.
Anyway, he wants 2.
I want 7.
He was so disturbed by my number that he had to walk away from all the fun.
Shortly after, I sent him an e-mail that contained nothing except for these images.



He replied:
"Please stop, really I feel nauseous.. Not kidding".

Unfortunately, I had already sent him this:



Sorry, J$.