…every time Scott writes about our kids.
I call her name. No reply. Louder. Nothing. The dragon’s got her but
good and who can blame her? Can I really compete with such a wingéd,
scaléd green beast?
I try again and this time she looks up. I make the sign for “car,” and she beams, hops down off the couch.
The earth’s rotation wavers slightly from the sheer beauty of her in motion.
This Blog Is So I’ll Remember Today Twenty 365s From Now
Best. Present. Ever.
The Well-Appointed Medical Kit
Joan Angela Blewitt Peterson