Write a four line poem about: the refugee.
Yeah, definitely fighting off a cold. And Kat seems to have come down with something as well. Max, strangely enough, is totally fine.
Kids, you guys.
It was a rainy, chilly day here. Not helping the inside feelings when outside looks so grey and unwelcoming. Took Max out after lunch anyway, because no good was going to come from all of us being trapped in the house.
We did some shopping, played outside by the beach for a little bit (I'll be honest: we left because I was getting cold), and then swung by Kat's parents house until it was getting toward dinner time.
This cough can kiss my ass, by the way.
I should probably just get this written and then get to bed. So...
It's so crowded here,
I have lost so much to theft...
I must not forget:
It's better than what I left.