Ran into one of my grandmother’s friends today. The very day I was visiting the cemetery for the first time since her death (brought pink bougainvillea, she would have liked that).
The friend said she didn’t need to ask about how I am, she’s reading this blog. Gulp.
And she noticed the F-word. Double gulp.
And that my gram would not approve and that Kloe, as a Bratz, doesn’t talk that way.
Like my gram was haranguing me from the grave…
Sigh.
I just have to slow down.
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