Sunday night, after returning from the Bridezilla’s shower, I was sorting through laundry in the dining room while Angel Face clop-clop-clopped around the kitchen island, practicing her walking skills.
Editor’s note: Super props to all you single moms. I am exhausted and frazzled and needing some Grey Goose vodka mainlined after the weekend travel sans spousal support system. You, single moms, are my heroes.
After a few moments, I realized the clop-clop-clopping had stopped, so I called out for Angel Face. No response. Frantically, I run into the kitchen. Angel Face had cleverly stolen my wallet from my purse (in its proper storage spot under the breakfast bar), opened it up, emptied it of all the cash meant to pay for day care and was THROWING IT IN THE TRASH.
Sometimes it feels like that’s where all our money goes, sweet girl, but we can’t really put it there.