Typical, These Days

Monday. 5:52 p.m.

A loving family sits down to a dinner of fajitas. The kids, who have been outside frolicking in the season’s first snowfall, are changed out of their wet clothes and into their PJs. People are filling their plates and chatting.

The Mother: OH. CRAP.


Monday. 6:01 p.m.

The father rushes out the door, still chewing a bite of dinner, with the middle daughter, thrown into a uniform pulled from the laundry bin and a button-up shirt with misaligned buttons. They’ll barely make Girl Guides carpool.


I’ll leave the blank space as an exercise for the reader.

4 thoughts on “Typical, These Days

  1. lol

    People think I’m a nutcase for the colour-coordinated e-calendar I maintain religiously and which is posted on the wall for all to see*…

    *which is not to say we never, um, forget a thing. LOL

  2. I’m with you. I need a brain scan. Or a better calendar. Or a family full of people with better memories than I. As it is, we’re frequently screwed.

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