I should be asleep, but instead, I’m up watching bad TV and wacky commercials. Exactly how many seasons did Walker, Texas Ranger stay on the air? It’s on four different channels at this time of night.
And who in the heck needs a shoe that washes your foot while you’re in the shower? Or a microwave pasta cooker? Or a combo hair brush and curling iron?
Anyway, I digress. Last week was brutal, and I think I’m suffering from work PTSD.
My daughter and I had a good night. After homework and spinach pizza, we made ourselves dizzy by recreating the routines from Dancing With The Stars. We’re not perfect, but we are entertaining.
Just before bedtime, E pulled out a piece of paper from her bookbag. “Mommy, this is for you.”
The paper was long and thin, like a ruler, and it was neatly colored pink and brown.
“It’s brown like your skin on the back and your favorite color,
pink, on the front.” (Side note: Pink is her favorite color, not mine, but it was the thought that counts.)
“Open it,” she made a sweeping gesture with her arms as she said this.
The words inside were simple: “I LOVE YOU MOMMY”
It made my day.
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