I have three good kids. Healthy, bright, well-liked, funny (and Lord knows I love the funny), and sweet. But I still want to stuff them into duffel bags at least once a week.
I want to, but I don’t. I don’t have enough duffel bags. Guess I should have stopped at two.
Tonight, I lost my mind one brain cell at a time. It was that slow. I wasn’t harried, or frantic, or loud. I just knew, as the clock crept inexorably toward way past their bedtime, that I would be a husk of a woman by nine. It actually happened by 7:45. Read the rest on Gather.com...
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