My little bitty skinny kid now has one phone number taped to her bedroom wall. It's the number of her sister, DeDe. (Technically, in the white man's terms, they are cousins.)
DeDe broke her arm recently. When this news reached my kid, Leyla Fern, she insisted immediately on calling her sister to check on her.
DeDe said she is fine. Her front teeth also look about like mine, following my oral surgery on Saturday, though DeDe evidently is taking her situation with better cheer than I am.
The sad thing is, DeDe's father Pafio (my brother/wife's cousin) is also down one wing at the moment, following shoulder replacement surgery. His body is badly depleted from chemotherapy; he is a lymphoma survivor.
My family is making it hard for me to feel sorry for myself, with this alien bone acting all wiggly in my gums. But hey, those are the only gums I got!
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