"Oh my god," I groan as I flop against the back of the couch, the telltale snick of a lighter music to my ears. "Why was today such a f*****g tornado? They're not even one yet."
The sweet aroma of my favorite bud hits my nose, and I sit up to Cami holding a freshly lit blunt toward me with a grin on her face. I told her not to get us anything for Christmas. Her help has been more than I can ever repay her for. She didn't listen, though. While I had the kids at the clubhouse yesterday, she and Ironhide went shopping. The gifts they got for the kids are under the tree with the stuff I bought, but they gave me mine early. A whole pound of White Widow, my favorite Indica. So, after all the crazy today of making sure everyone at the club got time with the kids, doing dinner and gifts with
