Big cockroach picture courtesy of Dave Gillmore. Thanks, Dave – this is an awesome photo!
Mornings became more complicated now that everyone had to be out of the house by 7am. Karen was picking the raisins out of her toast as Jean tried to subdue her humidity-induced riot of curls, while Kathy and Carolyn could be heard fighting in the bedroom over a pair of flip-flops that both were claiming as their own. Chrissie looked over her fractions homework and considered substituting hearts instead of dots over the “i”s in her name. Subtlety hadn’t been working very well and she hoped Mr. Regula would show some signs of interest if she made the first move.
“I don’t like raisin toast,” whined Karen. “I told you that yesterday.”
“And I told you it doesn’t have raisins in it, it’s just plain toast. Finish your breakfast.” Jean gave up on Karen’s hair and pushed the half-eaten slice back at her. She stirred a lumpy glass of powdered milk and Nestles Quick (which was the only way to make the drink tolerable) and turned around just in time to catch the horrified look on Chrissie’s face as one of the raisins Karen had picked out of the toast ambled across her homework. Karen chugged the chocolate milk and missed the moment when her mother decided she had consumed enough protein and swept the toast, crumbs and bugs off the counter into the garbage. She handed her youngest a banana and went to break up the fight in the other room.
The Samoan Letters 