The Good, The Bad and The Just Plain Sh*tty
If you heard a toddler crying Saturday night because she stood up and fell off her changing table because mommy was distracted by child #1, there’s a good chance it was my child.
If you heard a toddler scream like a banshee out of the blue at Target yesterday, there’s a good chance it was my sweet 18-month-old flexing her vocal chords in the children’s shoe aisle because mama wouldn’t let her out of the jail cart. You’d think I’d remember that shoe shopping with kids never turns out to be a particularly fun outing.
If you saw a 30-something year old woman persuade her 4-year-old that it was just fine and dandy that all the giant kiddy car grocery carts were in use late yesterday (thank God for the Publix cookie club for kids as I was all over the “Let’s go get your free cookie!” angle), there’s a good chance that was me.
If you heard a toddler crying at 4 a.m. this morning because her mother was trying to force her to take grape Dimetap again like she did unsuccessfully at 1 a.m. in order to break the cough, cry, and wake up cycle, there’s a good chance it was my child.
If you see a 30-something year old mom at work today, her eyes glazed over and daydreaming of being back on vacation at the beach, there’s a good chance it’s me.
