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The P. B. & J. Sandwich

Special Announcement:

OC and I were the guest readers this weekend at Waking Ambrose. Pop on over to Doug’s place and listen to Episode 11 of The Meditations of Diogenes The Cynic.

You may now proceed to today’s post:

Sometimes not only the The Grownups Wanted Us Dead. On occasion we were quite content to kill each other.

I settled into bed wearing my customary night gown — one of my dad’s old t-shirts — and opened my psych book for a little studying. Gram was still in the living-room. She only had a few pages left of her novel, and wanted to finish it. We heard thunder on the stairs. I smirked, certain Rumble had found his P.B. & J. sandwich. I wasn’t worried. There was no way Gram would let him into my bedroom. I was safe . . . .

Quilly is the pseudonym of Charlene L. Amsden, who lives on The Big Island in Hawaii. When she is not hanging out with Amoeba, she is likely teaching or sewing. Or she could be cooking, taking photographs, or even writing. But if she's not doing any of that, she's probably on Facebook or tinkering with her blog.

6 Comments

  1. ROFL!!! Now THIS sounds like some of the antics that went on in MY home growing up. Only…. at my house… that would so NOT have been the end of the sandwich! (and… waiting for next week… maybe it wasn’t at YOUR house either…)

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