Today, I thought we’d enjoy a family activity: carving a pumpkin for that demonic holiday I love so much that takes place on Friday.
Smelling blood, one of the punk kids from across the street came over with his warden to try and steal my little girl’s heart.
“Run, Maddie, run! They don’t even edge along their sidewalk! Take the pretty flower and get back to Daddy where you belong!” Her expression was one I made at my parents thousands of times when they offered unsolicited advice.
Instead of taking heed, she invited the little hormone to sit next to her on the porch. At least she used her thumb as a block to his advances.
Lacking any semblance of perseverance and realizing his advance would forever be spurned, Hormonal Boy trudged back across the street where he belonged. Once he’d disappeared from view, Maddie asked, “Daddy go hammock?”
“Daddy would love to go hammock.”