"A clump of cellls is not a child, by that logic you're killing more everytime you scratch your head."
We arrive just in time to see Sam shuffle on the bed and raise her head, with little a girl's voice edged in fear she pwnties, "Mommy.
Daddy?" In a soothing voice I say, "Right here Sam. We are coming to bed, right now. " With giggles, Sam says, "Good. " Kathryn and I have pajamas that we hardly ever wear...the end of the story look at the video above ↑ ↑ ↑