Gretchen knew. She knew before I left that I would need to detox after I got home. What, a funeral? Family crisis? Confrontation?
No. A girl scout camping trip.
She sent out the message to the usual suspects: Come over Sunday night and play at my house. Bridgett is getting home from camping with the girls and we need to play.
Zelda, Valerie, Tara, and I say yes. That's enough. Five is good. I am looking forward to it already, sitting in my car waiting to go to camp.
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