I read the passage out loud and added, "I would absolutely love a sweatshirt that said that! Not that I could ever wear it in public. But to own one. . .”
To be clear. None of my kids are depressive f*ck-ups, but the thought of such a shirt tickled the imagination.
My family laughed.
Fast forward one week. I have a fabulous Mother’s Day—waffles for breakfast, a beautiful hike in perfect weather, a trip to the movies and to my favorite comic store, a dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant, and when I get home, my family gave me a book (which I will share in another post—it is too fabulous not to share), a gorgeous necklace from my kids, and a homemade card.
My scanner sucks, so the colors didn’t come out right at all, but you’ll get the gist.
Here’s the front:
And here’s what’s inside (sorry about the cropping):
I hope you had a good Mother’s Day, too.