My husband and I were sitting on the front porch, comfortably reading our books, when Aisling came out to join us.
"Hello," she said, sitting down on one of the little bistro chairs that I bought as part of a set at a little antiques-and-collectibles store, but that's another story.
"Hello," said my husband and then sat there looking at her quizzically. "Aisling," he finally said, "you have something on your neck, kind of under your chin."
"Oh, that's probably just cheese," she said disinterestedly, not raising her eyes from her book.
This is what you get from the kind of girl who would walk through a crowded dog park from one gate to the other and get to your house, commenting "Gosh, my shoes smell funny" right before stepping onto your white living room carpet.
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