“Mommy! Marsha threw up on the couch, and then she ate it!”
I realized this morning that Poppy’s ballet shoes were in the center console of the car, right where she’s supposed to put them after class. But the car and its center console are at the body shop.
Pete vigorously, repeatedly and with much gusto encouraged me to “Stop It” when I told him it was time to leave the very busy bakery.
A large dog jumped into my car when we stopped to pick Poppy up from her piano lesson. I think it was a pit bull mix. It had very muddy paws and a collar with no tags.