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"Thirty-four, thirty-five...forty-three, forty-four...fifty-nine, sixty," and then she inhales deeply. "Sixty-one..."
"Saia?" he calls sweetly.
"Sixty-two, sixty-three...seventy-seven, seventy-eight..."
"Saaaaaiiiiiiaaaa?" he bellows across the console.
"Eighty-niiiiine, ninety, ninety-one, ninety-two..." she continues unaffected.
Then drawing in a deep breath, he yells, "SAIA!SAIA!SAIA!SAIA!SAIA!SAIA!SAIA!SAIA!"
To which, thank God, she finally replies, "Yes, Santiago, what is it?" although she's glaringly exasperated.
"Aren't you tired of counting yet?"
[By the way, in case you were wondering, you can, apparently, count to 100 TWENTY-FIVE FREAKIN' TIMES between the time we leave our house in the morning and the moment I come screeching into the drive at the school, which, as I may have mentioned once or twice before is FORTY-FIVE MINUTES AWAY!!!!!!!]
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