My Sister Babysat My Daughter Every Friday for Seven Years – Then She Whispered, ‘Mom, I Only Pretend to Sleep… I See What Aunty Does in Your Bedroom’

“Okay.”

“Chocolate chips?”

“It’s Friday.”

“Don’t push it.”

“You always say that and then give me chocolate chips.”

“That sounds like something your mother would do.”

Bev smiled.

And this time, Friday belonged to neither my job nor my sister.

It belonged to us.