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I would really like to know when my last nerve became community property. Because everybody in this house is using it. At the same time.
Some traditions are beautiful. Some traditions are just things nobody had the nerve to stop doing. There is a difference. Every family has one. A
“Mom, where’s my charger?” I don’t know. That answer seems to upset people. Like I’m being difficult on purpose. Like there is a large control
At some point motherhood got a production department. I don’t know when. Maybe Pinterest did it. Maybe Instagram. Maybe we did it to ourselves because
Forty three unread messages and somehow none of them were urgent.
Helpful gesture or one more weird house rule nobody agreed on?
Mom rants, petty arguments, family bullshit, polls and the stories worth sending to the group chat.
MOM.WTF
I have cooked full meals nobody ate. Cereal has never insulted me like that.
We call it fend for yourself night and morale remains high.
My kids think breakfast dinner is a celebration. I let them believe that.
Once in a while, absolutely. Add a banana if guilt needs a costume.
Cereal is food and dinner is a time. Case closed.
The banana turns neglect into a balanced meal. Science.