Could it be the early morning geshrey of the blue birdy, screeching its wakeup call?
Or could it be the rip, rip, rip of the sticky bluetape, tearing off the roll, telling us Nacho has arrived, better late than never, to finish the paint job hubby couldn't stop himself from starting?
I write TV movies, plays, and humor blogs. I've got two menschy sons, a wonderful French daughter-in-law, two angel grandkids, a longtime hubby, and a Royal Rescue Pup of Questionable Lineage.
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