Sunday, August 05, 2007

Not even close to drinking age

Last night, the fog crept in on little cat feet.
This morning, Supergirl streaked through the chilly air between her room and ours. She jumped in between the covers, shivered, and we wrapped our arms around each other for our serious snuggle of the day.
She whispered, "Mommy. Sometimes when I wake up, my saliva tastes like dusty rubber."

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