Little Artist

Mommy came home from Walmart tired and annoyed — what’s up with all
the Mercedes in the parking lot. I’d picked up some plants in order to
decorat the deck. Trying to arrange them in a simple pattern of
alternating burgundy and gold, I got huffy when Austen started moving
things around. She even started crying when I told her to stop. I gave
up and went inside, frustrated that I’d have to go back and rearrange
them when Austen went to bed.

But as I studied her arrangement of the plants the next morning I
realized I liked it better.

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