I know that the reason I feel this way has to do with the unpleasant combination of cedar, high winds and wildfires nearby, but I am not entirely convinced that someone did not take a cheese grater to my throat in my sleep last night. However, the entire gallon of white paint that the aforementioned wind blew over onto my previously unfinished-wood porch does give credence to the first explanation.
Charlie, were he capable of expressing himself, would likely add to this post in an attempt to serve an eviction notice to whatever funk is inhabiting his overflowing sinuses and throbbing right ear.
However Charlie is proving himself to be the easy child we always knew him to be by taking his amoxycillin like a man. The first time Melody needed it she was 22 months old and fell victim to strep. By the end of those ten days she would not consume anything that she had not directly watched us prepare.
Good night. Don't you DARE wake me up in the morning, ya'hear?