From August 2015:
So life is ephemeral, adulthood is hard, and my child looks to be ready to go through another growth spurt. He’s chest-high to me right now–when I rest my elbow on his head, I have to tilt my arm up, which was not the case back when summer started–so I can only assume he’ll tower over me at twelve (and, wow, does he love that idea. Little does he know, height is not the controlling factor for the WiiU or the TV remote).
He’s got one week left before he turns 13, and he’s 5’9″. I’m 5’6″.
I. fucking. called it.
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Published by Laura E. Price
I read (you can check out my Goodreads if you want; it's linked on my blog).
I write (I’ve been published in Cicada, On Spec, Strange Horizons, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Betwixt, Metaphorosis, Gallery of Curiosities, The Cassandra Project; the stuff that’s available online is linked on my blog).
I plan for the inevitable zombie apocalypse and welcome the coming of the gorilla revolution. Or the anarchist rabbits. Whichever happens first.
(I also blame my husband for basically everything.)
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