so, Shelby came down stairs the other day crying. I pulled her up in my lap and asked her what was wrong. She snuffles out that she doesnt want to have surgery. Me "?" Why,I ask. She goes on to tell me that she just really doesnt like the smell of the gas they make her breathe.
Well...... I guess she'll be okay. No surgeries scheduled that I know of!
I guess when you run out of "real" things to worry about, making them up is the next best thing! What a nut!
[That is a brief glimpse into my life with an emotional pre-teen.]
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