This is laundry, Grandchild. Plain old laundry. I enjoy hanging it on the line. Gathered in the heat of the day, it fills my arms with warmth and a light, fresh scent.
This by contrast, ninos, is art. Your gay apparel enlivens my fence with splashes of color. Sometimes your little things are mostly Weezie's, pink and white, a girly candy dish. Other times the mix is bold, bright and cheerful, like a fiesta going on in the back yard. Always your laundry is the best yard art imaginable.
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