imperfectly authentic
To the 20-something-year-old taking a selfie in the driver’s seat of the car behind me: I almost judged you, but then I realized I once was you. When I looked back and saw you adjusting your arm level and camera height and playing with your car’s AC so that when the air hit your hair,…
I’m proud of my forehead wrinkles. Okay, that was a major lie. “Bad Mommy, Bad Mommy;” we don’t lie in our family. Oops. Okay, the truth is… I. HATE. THEM. But, I don’t hate the reason for them, and guess what? The reason for them matters WAY more than how they make me look. Now,…
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