You Can Eat My Mom’s Children

One of our favorite places to go is the cemetery down the street from where we live.  We love how all of the graves are decorated and it is always so peaceful there.  The only sounds are birds, wind chimes and ghosts.

Whenever we visit, Luke is always very serious and solemn and very offended by the girl’s lack of reverence.  He is either figuring out how old each person was when they died, or telling the girls to get off of the graves.

Sylvia likes to “fix” everyone’s flowers and decorations.

Short Story:  Sylvia pets ceramic squirrel…

…holds it…

…a pet from Hazel turns into a grab then a headlock hold…

…ceramic friend gets taken away.

Sylvia says so many funny things I can never remember them all.  I made an effort throughout the day by writing them down on my arm…

“You can eat my mom’s children!”
“Don’t joke me!”
“My ankle hurts because my daddy is bye bye.”
“This pumpkin needs some gravity so it can stay alive.”
“Dad’s gonna kill me if I don’t go to Burger King!”


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