Strawberry picking and Baranga's, always.
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This was the first time that I've ever had an emotional connection with fireworks.
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From downtown, we went to Mackenzie's for an hour or two. By then, we had missed out on Slang Scrabble; a newly invented edition of the game. Scrabble's like Monopoly; there's four hundred versions of each, and counting. Allegedly, the rules of the game were to form words and/or phrases, words that you make up, alongside the meaning for that word. For example, a "Haaaadoe," I think it was, is when you laugh and quickly realize that what you're laughing at is dumb, so you're embarrassed, hence the "doh" sounding grunt.
We made this instead:
Steph cut her bangs. Steph's bangs look good:
Jill was afraid this photo would look them look lesbotic, but you decide: