We are eight. Eight weeks old. Why do you always do that? What? Start talking before me? Fine, you say it then. But now they already know how old we are. Wait. Who’s “they?” I don’t know. You’re the one who started it. Well, I felt like someone was listening… and they needed to know. Yeah. I know what you mean. Can I tell them? Tell them what? How big we are? Okay. Yay! We are as big as something small, oval and dark… can you guess what? Spit it out, will you? Ha! That’s funny. Did you just tell your first joke? Will you tell them already? Oh, alright. Watermelon seeds!
-a.m.opdahl
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