First off... a writer is what I WANT to be... a mama? Yes I am. A senior supply chain analyst (it's a long winded code for being good at something that might be considered kind of boring- God has a funny way of messing with people!)? But yes I am. A writer? Yeah no. Not yet. I still dream for the dream that made nerdy wizards and vampires really awesome.
Jill might have sliced my finger a tad with child-proof-safety-scissors, but she did promise me a coveted Snoopy Band-Aid. And I made it home without her mother knowing. But either the all too guilty Jill fessed up or else her mother noticed our slack clean up job in the bathroom. Either way, Jill and her mother were at the door of my house pronto.
I don't know what you are feeling so guilty about though... I was the champ who got the brush snagged into your hair while playing beauty shop in the garage, I participated in the incident that blazed a hole through the finish on your desk with nail polish remover and I was standing at the top of the concrete front porch stairs while you were definitely at the bottom hollering. Tangled in your child-size lawn chair.
I suppose there was a good amount of mutual pain inflicted. We made it though.
I was your sucky maid of honor too don't forget- and you didn't suck- you warned me you were pregnant and phobic of people. I showed up at your wedding which was only the second wedding I had ever attended- and the last one had been when I was 11.
I'm sitting here typing this with Noah laying next to me in my bed. Wearing his Roo Halloween costume from 2006. And watching Pooh and the Heffalump. It's a happy place to be.
-Sheryl
Jill might have sliced my finger a tad with child-proof-safety-scissors, but she did promise me a coveted Snoopy Band-Aid. And I made it home without her mother knowing. But either the all too guilty Jill fessed up or else her mother noticed our slack clean up job in the bathroom. Either way, Jill and her mother were at the door of my house pronto.
I don't know what you are feeling so guilty about though... I was the champ who got the brush snagged into your hair while playing beauty shop in the garage, I participated in the incident that blazed a hole through the finish on your desk with nail polish remover and I was standing at the top of the concrete front porch stairs while you were definitely at the bottom hollering. Tangled in your child-size lawn chair.
I suppose there was a good amount of mutual pain inflicted. We made it though.
I was your sucky maid of honor too don't forget- and you didn't suck- you warned me you were pregnant and phobic of people. I showed up at your wedding which was only the second wedding I had ever attended- and the last one had been when I was 11.
I'm sitting here typing this with Noah laying next to me in my bed. Wearing his Roo Halloween costume from 2006. And watching Pooh and the Heffalump. It's a happy place to be.
-Sheryl
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