First Choice

"We're the mighty lions.. we're trouble with a capital T. We're T-R-O-U-B-L-E so you'd better not mess with me."

Finally, our long ordeal is over. The one letter BrownBear was waiting for has arrived; they have "reserved a place for her in next fall's sixth grade class." She is ecstactic as are PrepGirl and LawyerBoy.

Our "back up" letter didn't arrive. What's up with that? The mail? The school? What ever. It was second, anyway.