The Children of Two Nations

The night before the feast we ate two preliminary meals: pizza and quiche, and practiced sophisticated analysis of our personal lives. The conversation was lively, humourous, and easy. The crazy blonde kids paraded in marx brothers attire and showed off special gastral powers shared on the playground. These were easily overcome with a long sheet of paper and an idea; the two crouched to the ground as a bear and a robber and sketched the countryside merrily. It was no use because they were banished to tundra yet again, and when they came back they had the good graces to wait at the door until their muddy feet were carried away to be cleaned. The children at home don't know how easy they have it.