O Canada!
dripdripdripdrip dripdripdripdrip
. . . . .
"hwah?" you sputter (if "hwah"'s a sputter) as you jolt awake amid a hard & inconsistent rain. Your sister Laura's standing above you, wringing her sopping tankini out over your head. It's dark in your room, but the first pearly glow of dawn is seeping through the gaps in your curtains, & you can discern a kind of exasperated smirk on her ordinarily angelic face. "What are you doing?" you cry, drawing your blanket over your head.
"I'm waking you up," she grins. "It's time to go to Canada. The car's all packed. Anyway, I needed to dry my tankini somehow after my farewell swim in the kiddie pool. Wouldn't want it to get mildewed."
You are perplexed. "It's wicked early for us to be leaving. Geez, Laura. It's only 5 AM!" She laughs long and hard, her hands on her hips. "Uh, why don't you try 5 PM, bozo? You slept all the live-long day."
