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After the bomb.
Gill and Ms. Harriet were actually a lot of fun what with both of them only smoking half the time and all. Alex and Gill wrestled but there was no kissing. I don't know any other French people, but they must all like to wrestle.

When we got home Dad was on the couch, which he never sleeps on the couch unless Momma is sick so we figured he was letting her sleep off one of her headaches until we went into the kitchen and sorta figured out they had a fight. There was stuff everywhere and two broken bottles of the champagne on the floor and the third one not even opened which is how we know something MAJOR happened.

Jillian fixed me a bowl of grits and brown sugar and cinnamon with butter the way we used to eat when we were little and then we went off to school without even waking Dad or Momma up. We both took turns sweeping up little green slivers of glass and then I got to work the mop before the bus showed up 'cause I know just how to do the mopping since it's what I do every Saturday, which is cleaning day, unless there's a snow storm and then we all just let it go.

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