I really do my best. But there are just all of those days where everything is hectic and I run out of time. I take Alice to daycare and I see all the well-dressed children in their coordinated outfits, and mine has a stained shirt and pen on her face. I suppose I shouldn’t worry too much. Kids are messy. And mine loves to eat blackberries for breakfast … none of her clothes will ever be accepted by a consignment shop.
At least she loves me. I know because she told me so for the first time recently. It’s not a phrase you can get her to repeat, either. She only says it when she means it. That’s a pretty nifty feeling.
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