~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~
“We looked it up, and it said that kids make macaroni art for Father’s Day.”
Wash rubs a growing pain between his eyes. It’s typically how all of his conversations go with Caboose. “Caboose, you’re not supposed to cook the macaroni first.”
Junior lets out a string of honks and blarghs. Wash doesn’t need to understand the words to get the meaning—Junior already tried to tell him that.