I'm going to London for my supposed-to-be-9-year-old-trip. I'm not even going to be 8 and a half.

Yay me.

Okay. I'll tell you what a 9-year-old-trip is.

When Girl Cousin (my oldest cousin) was little, she told Hold The Glass (my grandma) and Mr. Coffee (my grandpa) "You're always out of town. I want to go with you." Hold The Glass said "Oh, don't worry. We'll take you to Paris."

That was the start of the 9-year-old-trips.

The middle cousin, (hereafter known as Mr. Tall, because I say so,) went to Alaska.

Youngest cousin: (now Big Pain II) anyway: London.

Big Pain: San Fransisco.

I'm the last one. Okay! Drive careful! Bye!


Daisy said...

You are lucky! I think London will be a great trip for you.

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