The chaos of dinner has transitioned to a frenzy for dessert, and the kids are busy raiding the treat box while I’m wiping off counters and loading the dishwasher. Within minutes a child is sitting at the dining table carefully dissecting a bite-size Twix bar on a plate with two toothpicks.
It’s nine o’ clock PM, and all the kids are in bed. I’m in my happy place…..and the baby starts crying.
If I could write a book
I would title it
“Parents Aren’t Perfect.”