Sorry Liz

We’re over a month into summer vacation now. My children are feral, living on scavenged freeze pops and peanut butter toast. The entire house is covered in a thin layer of sand. Baby Shark has been on repeat so long I hear it even when it’s not on. We’re about 2 weeks away from turning into Thunderdome. In the distance, sirens.

This is The Queue and right now, it’s a brief respite. Too, too brief.