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Ben's Bad Hair Day

Sean made fun of Ben's hair one morning. He said it was sticking up and looking silly. I told him not to make fun of his brother. Minutes later, I walked past the bathroom and saw Sean spritzing Ben's hair with water and brushing it. The photo was hard to get, but I thought a visual may be needed.

Sean's Bad Day

When I was five years old, a neighbor friend and I decided to run away. I made it to the end of our driveway when our next door neighbor, known for his early morning hours spent manicuring his lawn, noticed me and asked what I was doing outside at 5am. I don't think I even responded, but I high-tailed it back to the house. I was grounded for a week. In the 38 years since then, I never thought about how my parents felt about my near run away. I don't remember what injustices lead my friend and me to think it was a good idea to leave the comfort of our homes and hit the road. I can't seem to remember a plan either. I do know that I wore my fancy blue shoes. Last week, I received a text from a neighborhood friend saying that I needed to call her immediately. She found Sean walking down the street from her house and picked him up. By the time I got the message, Sean was safely in school and all was fine. This story is pieced together mostly from what Sean shared with me and

A Fishy Story

Last Sunday, we were excited to watch the Carolina/San Francisco playoff game and went to more trouble than we usually do and invited a few people over. Not a huge party by any means, but we had caught the football fever and wanted to share it with others. A lot of good it did us, but that's for a sports blog writer to complain about. Our story only took place on this day and has nothing to do with football. Just as the game was about to start, Logan yelled for me. He was upset because he thought one of our African Dwarf Frogs  had lost a limb. Although I was truly the last person qualified to look at a missing limb, I did. Indeed, a bloody stump was where the left front leg should have been. I also noticed, to my horror, that the little frog was incredibly thin. Once I confirmed the injury, Logan spiraled into a crazed child, complete with unintelligible screaming, flailing and threats of fainting. Although, I was fairly calm, I was not doing so well myself. I love frogs and I