We've eaten cheeseburgers and ice cream sundaes. We've walked the dog around the block. Twice.
There is a lot of fighting. When I hear a loud thump or scream or bump, I say "is everything okay?"
My son says, "It's fine, that's just the sound of a sister being tortured by her big brother."
Today, my daughter coined the term "nipple pit," as in "you are such a nipple pit."
Today the paper says it is not as hot as yesterday, but I'm not sure I believe it to be true.
It's summer.
And both of these kids are as bright as the sun.
2 comments:
sounds like my house -- wish we lived closer and could sit at a kitchen table -- yours or mine, sip coffee and smoke cigarettes or something --
When you return, I will make the pilgrimage. Oh, to be a desperate housewife in your fine company.
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