If I ever, ever get it in my fool head again to write a story about six
brothers instead of let’s say the manageable two or three, please slap me
silly.
Lock me in a cupboard amongst the canned peas.
Tackle me to the floor and bind my fingers together with gorilla glue.
Wrestle me into a hoop skirt and stuff me up the chimney.
Tie me to a tree in the front yard, slather me with honey and call in
the bees.
Whatever it takes, just stop me!
Thank you.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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