Short

Andrew had a friend spending the night so of course it involved a trip to the pool before bedtime.

Hey, this ain’t my first time at the rodeo people.

I know how to tucker those kiddos out.

No one is staying up late in this house, at least not on my watch.

So, as we were walking to the pool, Caroline kept saying, “Leo, you’re short, like me.”

She said it not just once, probably ten times.

I think she was just thrilled to have someone close in size.

And in fairness to Caroline, he was only about a head taller than her.

I finally had to tell her to stop talking about it since Leo could have been developing a complex with the way she was badgering him, “You’re tiny. You’re little like me.”

All was fine for awhile.

As I was handing the kids their homemade pizza and watermelon slices, Leo walked to our table and said, “This table is dirty. These chairs are dirty.”

I looked at him, looked at the table, looked at the chair…

And said, “Caroline, what were you saying about Leo being small?”

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