As I pushed open the door to our home with my behind, balancing orange and white grocery bags in my arms, the metal taste of my car keys between my teeth, I was greeted by an exhilarated six-year old.
Her voice was vacillating in the upper levers as she announced: "Mom, you won't believe it, I didn't run off to join a gypsy band, I didn't burn down the house, and I also didn't flood it. I was OVERLY good!!"
The actual German word she used was 'übergut.' Freud would have a field day!
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