Double-Booked   

Balancing grocery bags should be an Olympic sport. I mean, my kids make their own sport of “most creative way to disappear when Mommy gets home with the groceries” so why not?

I’m just in the kitchen when my phone rings. I drop a bag onto the island and answer it with my elbow. Another sport!

“Tell me about your midwinter plans,” my best friend, Tali, says with absolutely zero introduction, the way you can only do with people you’ve been friends with forever.

“We’re doing the Lakeviews again, and we are really excited!” I stuff my cans into the pantry, fantasize for a moment about pulling everything out and organizing it at long last, and then firmly shut the door. “Last year, and mind you, I’m probably repainting every hole with rose-colored glasses—”