“Don’t!”
When Bishop screeches at the top of his lungs, I pivot in the patio chair to gauge whether it’s a happy screech or a bad screech. With a quick scan of Ana’s yard, I spot Hunter chasing Bishop around the petunia bed, little Bobbie on their heels.
Okay, definitely a happy screech. Carry on, gremlins.
Okay, definitely a happy screech. Carry on, gremlins.My son may be causing a ruckus, but my girls are more than happy to sit back and relax with us ladies. Elise bounces Charli on her knee while I keep Bella gleefully occupied with a teething ring. Meanwhile, Harper avoids too much contact with the little ones, but that’s not unusual.
Brunch with my girlfriends has become more and more difficult over the years with Ana and me juggling full-time motherhood responsibilities. Harper an
