It’s Not Who You Are, But Whose You Are

It was late Friday evening, and Brad and I had gone to bed. Of course, like most nights, that means he had his MacBook Air in his lap and I had my iPad. About the time we got quiet, we both heard it. The unmistakable sound of tiny little feet running across the floor upstairs. In fact, it sound like a mouse race was going on directly above our heads.

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