Gus: “Mom, did you have a good year last year? I want to know.”

Where do these questions come from? Where did these children come from? Why do they ask so many questions? And why do they ask the same question repeatedly and expect a different answer?  It’s driving me nuts! I feel like retiring to the hermitage and living a life of solitude and meditation, the kind where I am sleeping in my bed pretending to think of deep things. Thank goodness they go to bed early and stay there. It is my only saving grace. I think this is why chewing gum was invented. Chicle anyone?

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