Cara got her heart broke this summer. "Guys should come with a warning label right on their forheads: 'Don't get serious about this one, he's not a keeper...' " She was crying hard enough as she said it that I didn't want to laugh out loud, but the first thing I thought is "Well, if they did, I would never had married your father, and there would never have been a you..." I can't wait until she's home and I can hug her and treat her to good coffee. (Caffeine freaks are always comforted by good coffee.) Broken hearts are no fun at all.
I found the dog bones. I stuck 'em with the stack of paper plates. Completely logical, perfectly sensible. (I keep telling myself)