When my parents came home after work today they seemed hyped up. They both wore big grins and they were aimed at me.
“What?” I said.
“One playground coming up,” said my mom.
I shrieked. “She said okay?”
Dad said, “She said, ‘Sue, schmoo. We’ll get insurance.’”
“What about the vegetable garden?” I said.
“She said they’d rather grow fun than squash. She said they never had kids of their own, and so now they’re going to have some—this way.”
I rushed to the phone to tell Sydney.