Mom, why are you lying on the floor down there?
You have that big black thing on your face again.
You came running up the steps talking to me, and then instead of petting me you laid down on the floor on the landing but you’re still talking and moving that black thing around.
Sometimes I don’t know what to think. Sometimes thinking is too hard anyway, but that’s another story.
Are all humans like this?
I think I’ll just have a good laugh and go back to sleep. It’s too hot to think about it right now.
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