A Pattern of Words

It was a “makes me think of the good ol’ days!” morning. The kind where I text V at 7:40am and tell her to walk over with the kids for breakfast. She’s predictably late, I’m predictably low on the right toppings, the kids scarf food down and disappear to play Legos after using (predictably) way too much whipped cream, and we both end up sitting on the couch happily chatting until 1:20pm. (oops) I meant to do math with P? But playing hooky was way more fun.