"God Mom, you're gonna blow our cover."
"What's our cover?"
"We're the normal family."
The mom and some of the kids were in the backyard looking at a variety of people (i)not giving up(i) in the picture window of the dining room. "I think the times are not normal," the mom said, "But we are."
"Dick, you're wearing too many hats at once to stay." A bossy but very skilled at being a lady woman said as she finished her coffee.
"What do you mean?" He grinned and turned his head with the seven hats on it so everyone could take a mental mugshot.
"Okay, I'm game," a radioman said as he entered the room. He put three wrinkled and damp dollar bills onto the vinyl tablecloth.
Dick said, "I'm trying to express myself. I'm having brain block because of being in so many piles of (i)working on it(i) cases."
"Piles of crap?" A kid asked.
"In for the lasagna. Not sure I want to hear anything that guy has to say." He kept his hands in his pockets.
Two kids came in with hat brims pulled low. "Offload. Release all weight. What's on your minds gangstahs?!"
"We're not gangsters," said the boy who took off his hat.
"You should take yours off too," the girl was told. A hand reached and took it off when the girl didn't comply. (i)Black eye, split lip(i).
"Your mother do that to you?"
Mouths dropped.
"Oh sure keep blaming everything on the mothers."
"How long've (i)they(i) been doing that?" Another woman had joined the getting dusky room.
Nobody answered.
After long enough for people to say the Serenity prayer, the girl said, "Have I got a story for you."
"They're ALL liars," said a boy.
"Girls?" Asked the radioman.
"Grownups?" Asked a girl.
"Drunks?" Asked the mom.
"What happened?" Asked a woman with a pile of papers to edit as she put them all into a manila folder.
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