The summer before fourth grade, Mom moved us from our cramped, leaky apartment to a house across the Columbia River. The deed for our new house read like a game of Two Truths and a Lie; no one of color is legally able to own this property; this property entitles the owner to 1/160th of a park lot; a sewer line runs to the house. Unfortunately, the first two were true, though Mom, to her credit, hired someone to omit the offensive restriction of ownership based on race. Oh, and the lie? There was no sewer line in this part of Pasco. We relied on a septic tank which had to be pumped once a year by a man that exclaimed, “You’ve got a nice mix of solids and liquids, there!” with a straight face.
Too good! Ya, who DOES authorize to lay carpet in a gym? Maybe the school nurse, so kid’s hearing lasts longer! 😂 And that true-to-life bra story❣️ Ugh! 😵😁😑😬
Too good! Ya, who DOES authorize to lay carpet in a gym? Maybe the school nurse, so kid’s hearing lasts longer! 😂 And that true-to-life bra story❣️ Ugh! 😵😁😑😬
Who puts carpet down in a gym?