Her

CXXXVII

The next morning I am awoken
By the sun streaming in through the windows
And the sounds of small children -
Or petites merdes as Adalie would say-
Shrieking.
I yawn and roll over.
The screeching persists.
By now Ella's awake as well.
"Jesus Christ, Adalie," she murmurs, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"Your cousins are tiny monsters."
We look over at Adalie to find she is fast asleep.
We laugh quietly.
"I guess she's learned to handle it," I say.