Family
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Every year we take the same roads.
We pass through the same towns.
We arrive at the same beach.
Every year we stay at the same place.
I call it our cottage.
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Silas' seven grandparents took him on outings over the July long weekend. Two took him camping. Two took him to the dog show. Two took him to the dinosaur museum. And one rode the roller coaster with him at the amusement park.
But sometimes Silas couldn't keep up with his seven grandparents.
"After all, I'm only one small boy," said Silas.
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"Hi, Laura! Hi, kids!" he says, overfriendly and not waiting for an answer. I don't even want to say his name. I hate him. I totally, absolutely, completely, really, truly hate him.
