This evening, as my bestie was getting ready to leave after an afternoon of just hanging with the kids, she called to me in the kitchen, where i was cooking steak and putting away the entire drawer of tupperware that the baby had emptied. "There's a crime scene in here!" she called. And there it was. Right before ...
Oh, hey! Look at what I just so happened to find in the trash can!
When you become a parent , you learn the art of flexibility. Of compromise. Things will always evolve, inconsistency becomes the only constant, and "right" and "wrong" no longer exist, as all absolutes fade into a spectrum of gray. Except, of course, for this. This is never ok. (**Note to self: If ever again, you should hear "Shoe! Uh-oh!" from some faraway ...
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