By the time we finished moving all my things on Saturday afternoon, and dumped the trash, we were exhausted. I was sore, and my back hurt. Rhys was whining that he was hungry, and Lee was sprawled on the couch in the basement.
I kicked his leg. “Dude. You can’t pass out yet. Rhys is starving, as usual. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. We need food, and I’m too tired to cook. Pizza?” A groan, then Lee sat up.
“Rhys needs to stop growing. Okay, yeah, Pizza. I’ll order some.” Then his eyes lit up. “Oh, we gotta have breadsticks and chicken wings, too. Blue cheese. Wait. Do we have ice cream? Rhys!”
I chuckled as I followed him back upstairs to the kitchen, and leaned against the wall near the refrigerator while I listened to Lee and Rhys argue over toppings and root beer floats. I would need T
