The day that I was told we were moving to Maine I was sitting in my room at my desk trying to read a comic book. Mom and John walked in and sat on either side of my bed.

“Sweetheart,” Mom started and I knew I wasn’t going to like what came next.

She only ever calls me ‘Sweetheart’ when she wants to try to talk me into doing something we both know I won’t want to do.

They proceeded to tell me we were moving and no matter how much I screamed and complained, it did absolutely no good what-so-ever. Finally, in a fury I pounded my fist on my desk and screamed, “You know what? This both bites and wipes at the same time!”