“Mama, I wanna be a ‘Cold Sprite’ for Halloween tomorrow.”
Mid-July is boiling over into August,
and our tomatoes will never ripen . . .
The tiring, sticky mutation of our spawn into the “Corpse Bride” must wait.
As parents we could not be more proud of her inventive demented mind.
If one ever wonders why her beautiful, vibrant, brain wanders freely,