My Son Turned My Bedroom Into A Game Room Until The Sheriff Arrived With The Real Owner

to survive outside, but every spring I tried again. I would place the pot carefully in my garden, water it, tend it, hope for the best. Most years it died. But some years, against all odds, it bloomed anyway.

Old roots are stubborn. So are old women who finally learn that love should never require sleeping beside a washing machine.

My son thought he continue reading …