Son of a…
I eyed the stupid jar full of dollars and change on the table and stuck my tongue out at it.
Living with Rip.
With this chaos.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d be able to fund both kids’ college before the end of the month.
“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath, only to have Viera call me over to the couch.
“Something funny?” I wrapped an arm around her.
“Wha’s a bastard?”
“If I give you a dollar, will you promise never to tell Uncle Rip?”
“Two.” She nodded. “Two dollar.”
“Fine.”
“Yay!”
I ruffled her curls, then got up to grab cereal for Ben, eyeing the clock on the oven and letting out a groan.
It was only eight in the morning. Just another twelve hours until bedtime. I could make it.
Just then, Viera appeared at my knee, her chubby little hand covered in chocolate. Wait. I hadn’t left chocolate in the living room. What could she have gotten into so fast?
“Aunt Colby, I go poop!”
Awesome.