Wednesday, May 25, 2016


In the midst of emptying the dishwasher, a wave of exhaustion cuts the legs out from under me, and I start to panic a little.

"Pookie, can you help me finish cleaning in the kitchen?" I ask Katie where she's lying on the couch in the family room.

"Nope, sorry," she says, rising with a half-smile. "You're gonna have to handle this on your own."

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