by Nicki Dechert Carlson
-
GLEEFULLY His
I tip-toed out the front door of the house to take a phone call so I wouldn’t wake my napping teen in the family room. She’s recovering from surgery. I’d just caught a bowl-full of her vomit and reapplied ice packs to her incision sites. A moment in the sunshine, breeze, and green grass would… Read more
Follow My Blog
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.
Expressively HIS ... 