My Biggest Distraction

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No, it is not my children. I give you my 7 year old, anxiety-ridden shadow. He brings me presents while I type at the computer. Everybody could use half a pine cone. (At least it isn’t something dead, right?) If he hears a beep, bubble wrap, the garbage truck, or any other loud noise, he ends up under the desk where my ninja feet can guard him. And yes, sometimes I have to type or read a book with this shaggy, shaking thing in my lap. If he’s too worked up, he just refuses to get down. He’s a total mess, but he’s our sweet little mess. In his defense, he is quite adept at one trick. Maybe one of these days I’ll post the smile he does for a piece of turkey.

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