The best I can do is come storming back down the hallway mumbling about, “Freakin’ socks and this house.”
This wasn’t home and no other parents were doing it. That’s what makes it “embarrassing.”
I spent years in the babyhood trenches. I have the scars, words, and formula stains to prove it.
I guess the house ate them.
I don’t like that Justin Bieber.
It was the day that she nearly made me laugh so hard that coffee came out of my nose
The turkey is gobbled and the pumpkins are mulch. You’re allowed to decorate. It’s OK now.
We all rushed to get here. When we did, it was electric bills and frozen waffles.
My pockets overflow with Hershey wrappers. They tumble out along the floor like product placement in a Hansel and Gretel movie.
You never realize how much of your life isn’t kid friendly until you find yourself tasked with being friendly to kids.