Sunday, April 15, 2007


I was scrubbing the kitchen floor, like honest-to-goodness hands and knees with a scrubbrush, scrubbing. My two younger children were watching from the displaced chairs in the next room. My sister calls, and I lament that my children won't go and play, that they were watching me like I was performing in the olympics.

She says, "well, it does only happen every four years."

Everyone needs someone in their life that will tell them the truth, whether they want to hear it or not.

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