The doorbell just rang. It's 9 p.m. I was ready to chew out the unsuspecting, inconsiderate solicitor who came *this close* to waking my sleeping children.
I was mentally preparing my worst Momma Bear pissed off attitude when I opened the door and realized there were two teenage girls on my front porch. Before I could utter a sound, one girl looked at me with sudden realization and said, "I taught your daughter Leah in swim class."
Of course she remembers The Screamer. Doh.
I totally bought the coupon card she was selling. It was for a mission trip. For her volleyball team. Can we get a little more wholesome, please? Geez.
I don't think I really had a choice. My daughter screamed and kicked at her for 15 minutes straight three days a week for two weeks. I'm pretty sure that's not what she signed up for.
Leah has a different teacher this time around. The girl claimed she had a youth camp and couldn't teach this last session. Mmhmm...
Fear the Screamer.
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