Monday morning, and
We have sprung forward into darkness.
Mom has left for work, but
Scout and I lie on the couch,
Under the blanket.
"My throat is sore," she says.
"You'll be fine," I say.
"That's a weird thing to say," she says.
And we laugh.
Comments Boots correspondent Peter Dean on Facebook:
If you can laugh, it can’t be too bad.
He liveth best who loveth best
All things both great and small.
The streptococcus is the test.
I love him least of all.
(Hilaire Belloc, The Bad Child’s Book of Beasts).