"What the heck is up with this?" I asked. She raised her head and smiled.
I could almost hear her thoughts:"It works! Aaaand SCENE."
On the bright side, they are at a stage where they are obsessed with digging, so when we go to the beach each day they no longer charge into Lake Michigan but sit themselves down for a serious long-term commitment to making holes with sticks. And bringing me trash. I have taught them the joys of getting absolutely filthy with dirt, and how it's better to blow on a pebble and toss it away than shove it into your mouth (I still sometimes find the girl's mouth moving surreptitiously; I wordlessly hold out my hand and she dutifully spits whatever it is into my palm. Fortunately, nothing thus far has been moving or gross. The girl is also a bit of a trash picker, and can find the smallest bottle cap or piece of wrapper and hone in. Each time I see her bending and grabbing something, I murmur my mantra: "No condom, no condom, no condom...")
Tonight I saw a late-night opening of a play a friend is in. A take on Ed Wood's "Plan 9 From Outer Space," It's "Plans 1-8 From Outer Space." Low budget, good fun, and I got a comp. On the way down, I saw that a new Target was going to open up on Broadway, and my first thought was, "Holy crap, a new Target?" My immediate thought after that was, "I wonder whether they're hiring?"
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