So Michelle and I were talking about books from elementary school the other day, and when I tried to look for old books in the attic, I came across the journals I had from my 6th grade class, that our teacher made us keep.
Here's an excerpt.
"This weekend, Michelle slept over. On Monday we made cookies. While we waited for the second pan to bake, we were making balls of dough and putting them on my kitchen counter. I, however, being as "mature" as I am, was trying to catch bits of dough in my mouth. I tossed one up, and it hit the ceiling. It didn't stick, thankfully. Michelle reminded me of a book when they threw marshmallows up and they got stuck, then fell on the ground. Just as she finished, I threw one too high and it hit the ceiling. And stuck.
Now this was bad enough, but it was worse because we both cried out and laughed...but my dad was just in the other room!
So since Michelle was the tallest, she stood on one of our tall kitchen chairs and it fell off. But there was still some on the ceiling and Michelle, who is just about the tallest person I know, couldn't get it! So I gave her a spoon and she scraped it off. Right after we threw it away, my dad walked in. I was being as insuspicious as I could, looking at the ceiling once or twice...a second.
We could hardly breathe from laughing so hard after he left. I did not try to catch anything in my mouth after that."
Now that's love, baby.
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