“Was Will wearing pants?” I greeted Joan, Will’s therapist. I had dragged myself out of bed when I heard the doorbell ring twice. I’d had a migraine for five hours and I’d laid down in a vain attempt to bore it to death.
I have two girls and two boys ranging in age from seventeen to eleven. Brianne is responsible, Jake likes to talk, William is autistic, and Lizzy knows her mind. I have an unusual life!
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