Tuesday, July 5, 2016

S(pit)

After the (somewhat disappointing and soggy) fireworks die down, Katie hands me a cherry. "Quick, eat this for me and give me the pit," she says, and I do, because she hates cherries, and she takes it and runs away.

Later, at home, she shows me a sizable welt on her shin. When I ask what happened, she explains, "We were spitting cherry pits off the roof, and I whacked my leg on the railing, but I hit the building across the street!"

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