A stranger living with the Tribe of Girls
(This is another old column from when a Tribe of Girls ensnared me and forced me to live with them. The Young Girls are designated by their ages.)
"Hello. My sisters are all morons," said 12, when the phone rang and she got there first. These days, it's a race for the phone. Boys call on the phone. The phone belongs to the quick and the cute. Her, of course.
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