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President’s Day

I don’t know what you did to celebrate President’s Day…

but after we dumped every last oat from our homemade granola straight from the oven onto the kitchen floor and I spent ten minutes breathing like a dragon, well…then we partied like it was 1863.

Two hours later, without meaning to, we found Abe’s profile under the dining room table.

Then at eight p.m. when my son clinked his ziploc baggy of coins on the table, we figured we’d find out for sure with whose faces we’d been buying groceries.

At nine p.m. we realized that the dog hadn’t moved from his current position for eight hours except to shift his ears, it was still raining, and we hadn’t left the house.

Here’s to one heckuva holiday!

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