Eight bugs a-biting

We woke up this morning to find eight mosquitoes in our apartment. They were fat with blood and lethargic enough for even me to catch them, which I did while Colin rinsed off the bug spray that hadn’t saved him during the night.

And I almost killed our toaster oven yesterday by leaving a piece of bread in for too long. Colin figured out what was wrong, but sometimes I’m like one of those 4-year-olds who needs to be supervised.


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