Monday morning, Mari came to my bed before anyone else was awake. She lay there silently for a few moments and then in a quiet whisper, she confessed, "Mom, I have an issue."
I turned toward her and asked, "What honey?"
She repeated, "I have an issue, Mom."
I giggled to myself and waited for her to explain.
She continued, "I have an issue, and I need a tissue, AND that rhymes!"
I cracked up laughing and handed her the box, 'cause that girl is hilar!
