"Uh, yeah, I think you had something on your back. Here, turn around." She grinned and turned, and I brushed some imaginary fluff from her lower back... "Some lint, or something. There, it's gone. Let's see, what's popular... Spice Girls, of course, and James Taylor, Celine Dion --" "Those are crap," she offered. "All that's good now is fuck tunes." "Well, yeah," I stammered, "there's lots of good R&B stuff out now, like Maxwell and D'Angelo --" "That's what I like, stuff like that." She. He had been in one of her remedial reading classes when he was a senior. He always was a little shit, but she wasn’t going to dignify his comment. Instead, she stood and gave him a dirty look and went inside.“That little bastard...”“Who’s a little bastard, Mom?” Lisa hadn’t realized her son was in the room.She looked at him and smiled, “You never mind. You want to help me bring in the decorations. I don’t want to wake in the morning and find them smashed across our yard like last year.They. More

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