Alice broke a key on my keyboard this morning — she reached over and ripped it totally off. Four little pieces came — the key itself, two little white rings, and a little rubber piece. I got the two little white rings back in place, but one of them is broken from the stress.
So now I can’t *ip, *ig-*ag, or *oom. I can’t spell her full name, Alice Eli*abeth. I won’t be telling you about the pi**a we had for dinner the other night.
Jerry thinks we might be able to fix it, so maybe that’ll be an activity for this evening, after we have our *esty taco soup for dinner (and yes, Jerry, I’ll add the corn AFTER I spoon out your serving).