Never let your children associate with friends you envy
MOTHER GOOSE RETURNED FROM THE MARKET with fresh fish and eggs. At least the vendor said they were fresh when she mentioned the fish smelled off. “I just caught it myself this morning with my pole and hook,” he’d assured her.
As she stored the fish and eggs in the larder and the dry goods in her cupboards, the sound of women giggling from her living room caught her attention. She tiptoed to the entrance to join the conversation. Her daughter Pea was sipping wine and sharing it with the young woman who moved into the shoe at the end of the lane.
Goose tiptoed to the entrance to join the conversation. Her daughter Pea was sipping wine and sharing it with the young woman who moved into the shoe at the end of the lane.
Goose’s best of bottle of wine. Or perhaps, she should say, the bottle that was formerly her best bottle of wine.
The young woman who lived in a shoe leaned across the couch and touched Pea’s knee. “So, how far did you let him go? First base? Third base? Home run?”
Goose knew that woman was bad news the day she unloaded the carriage at her new shoe. Six feet tall and sporting jeans shorts with six-inch heels. Far more buxom than should be allowed a character in a nursery rhyme. Wearing a blouse that left nothing to the imagination. Since she moved in, the men in the neighborhood spent more time outdoors and kept making excuses to pass by her shoe.
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