That truce ended in the strangest way possible.
It was a lazy Saturday. Billy was playing with dinosaurs when he looked up and spat. Then he giggled.
“Billy, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Spitting!
It’s fun, Mommy!”
“Did the kids at kindergarten teach you that?”
He shook his head. “No. Grandma made me spit in a tube.
It was fun! And I got a sticker.”
“A tube?” My stomach dropped.
I smiled at Billy, but inside I was screaming.
That night I told William. He looked uneasy.
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