My child army vs. all the soggy vomit cartons of the world

It's eleven at night and the sun is just setting. Some nameless forest bird is chirping, and the newly born insects are batting at the window-screen. It was seventy-five degrees today, like instant summer, no time for foreplay when you've only got twelve frost-free weeks. I wanted to do so many things when I got … Continue reading My child army vs. all the soggy vomit cartons of the world