What The Nursery Needs.... Terry Essig
yourself, because then you’d only have to wash it again. Can we eat now?”
Catherine had to turn her head to keep from laughing at her sister’s frustration. Monica’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “Pick the coat up now, Amy Marie.”
Amy rolled her eyes and stomped back over to the door. She snatched her jacket off the floor and jammed it onto a hook. “There. Satisfied?”
Monica, paragon of virtue that she was, simply nodded and said, “Yes. Thank you. Now you can have some pizza.” Then, with her daughter safely occupied stuffing her face, she turned to glare at Catherine. “You can afford to laugh now,” she whispered to her sister, “but just wait. If you go through with this you’ll find out. Babies are just like kittens and puppies. They grow up and turn into—” Monica waved a disdainful hand at her own progeny “—that.”
“You mean a typical teenager?”
Monica shuddered. “Yes. And let me tell you, it’s a whole lot easier to put up with when they’re just visiting, and you can send them back to wherever they came from when you feel the need for some peace and quiet. It’s a different story when there’s no place to go to escape them. Twenty-four hours a day, they’re there right on top of you, driving you nuts, making you question your own sanity.”
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