I see you, minivan mom. You swore you’d never succumb to its elongated frame and matronly…well, everything. But lo and behold, baby #3 came along and kicked that promise right to the mother lovin’ curb. And now here you are schlepping droves of squealing children around to t-ball practice, surrounded by little landmines of goldfish cracker crumbs […]
There’s a puddle on the bathroom floor, the plunger’s resting on the living room rug, and someone’s screaming ‘HELP ME’ from the kitchen.
Thank you, Hug Me Elmo, for spontaneously working tonight after seven months of silence. Screeching “I love to hug you!” in the still darkness of my finally-sleeping-3-year-old’s bedroom.