The Wilk — by definition, is the epicenter of Happy Valley.
When we got there, I had everyone stand in front of the Happy Valley mural and point to the “Y”.
Every one pointed…but Pippi just pointed to the wrong Y, and we all started laughing.
Then we went downstairs to bowl..or in this year’s case…chase down two one-year-old twins.
And the bowling lane is where we learned that Dash’s soft lips are so good for kissing, we are afraid for his teenage years.
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