Yesterday was the last day of school of the year. Each day this past week the kids would get more and more excited, the promise of 11 school-free days looming ahead. Each day I'd wonder aloud just how much alcohol I could have without getting Elle wasted.
The kids get off of the bus and are sprinting to the house. Lucas is weighed down with a large brown grocery bag, and it is brimming with cookies, candies, and a few small gifts. Brett has a tiny little paper lunch bag, a few candies, and some cookies.
After they stop jumping up and down from the excitement of being paroled, Brett looks down and notices that Lucas has enough crap to feed a third world country.
"You got all that from your party?" He's staring in disbelief.
Luke's cheeks are filled to capacity chipmunk-style rendering him silent, but he nods like a speed addict.
"Man! The only I ever got from first grade was a migraine."
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