A couple of weeks later, around the same time of night, two young men knocked on my door, and it was the same story: Their car wouldn’t start, and they wanted to come in and use my phone. When I told them to leave they started getting aggressive and argumentative. When I realized they were going to come in anyway, I showed them my handgun and sent them on their way. A very short time later, these same kids cut the throats of two Dartmouth professors who had allowed them into their home. These kids decided they wanted to go to Australia, and they were going to kill and rob anyone they could get their hands on to get there. When they were caught and debriefed by the cops, it turned out someone else in town had run them off with a weapon as well.

Just sharing.

Skittles are (is?) the last food Meredith ate before the surgeries on her brain tumor. After eating a Mexican dinner the night before her brain surgery at a restaurant next to the hotel, we munched on Skittles quietly together in our hotel room. We of course had the usual conversation about which flavor we liked best and what was our preferred strategy for eating them (least favorites first, followed by intermediate flavors, summed up by the favorites is my way…I can’t remember hers).

I doubt I will ever think of Skittles in the same way again.

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