Highlights of today's playdate (that is, Madge had a playdate, which then migrated to our house):
When we got there, Madge - who wanted a playdate so she could get away from Coco for a while and play with kids her own age - said, "Can Coco stay?" (I've got a little bald patch from yanking out a chunk of my hair.)
The playdate was brave and tried to eat the bread Coco had chosen at the store even though none of the kids could manage to chew it. I finally made her a peanut butter sandwich.
They played shoe store. Not my shoes, obviously. But those of the person in the house who has more shoes than feet (and fingers and toes and ...) [Oh, have I mentioned that Julie's work has been blocking the blog?]
Finally, I was called in to adjudicate a dispute as to whether the "sugar packets" in the shoe boxes are edible or not. One had already been opened, but none eaten. Or so I must trust.
Meanwhile, I've pressed 9 and 1 and am holding my phone ready just in case.
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Think of the time at you ate, corn seeds that were to be planted and had been treated. How many poison centers I called to find out what had to be done (seeds from America no knowledge in Germany). you survied with never having found out anything.
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