River is sweet

River is sweet when she gets up. Not that kind of sweet, unfortunately. “Do we roll the dice for back rubs now?” “You didn’t say anything.” “Didn’t you like that?” See, there’s the backlash. She recognizes it and leaves. She’s smart. And she pulls us out. Says I haven’t seemed antidepressed enough for about four days. It’s true. Sits on the kitchen floor and kisses me. Says she likes me. And tells the kids they’ve got about 15 minutes until it’s time to leave for school. “That’s enough time.” She doesn’t get it. That’s ok.

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