Last week at dinner, we were talking about a boy (I don’t remember which one), and Sarah quipped, “he’s such a tool.”
Another fish story... We were in Gettysburg on a family trip when suddenly Emily reached the “acceptance” stage of grief. We were eating dinner at an Italian restaurant when she put down her fork and cried, “I miss my fish!”
A few weeks ago, we traveled to Roanoke to visit my good friend Astrid and her family. We went to the pool, go-karting at Thunder Alley, and buried a bird in their backyard.
Sarah and Emily found an enormous slug by the flower beds and he became our pet for less than 24 hours. I don't know how he escaped the Rubbermaid container in their room, but he’s gone.