Ba-dum bum

It was the end of a long day.  Charles was due home shortly; the house was clean and dinner was in the oven.  Darcy sat on the sofa, sipping a glass of chablis and enjoying the song that had just come on the radio.

Cherise glanced up from her book, noticing her mother’s foot-tapping.  “Mother, you have absolutely no rhythm,” she said.

Darcy didn’t miss a beat.  “If I did, you wouldn’t have been born,” she shot back.

That shut Cherise up.

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