I ordered take out last week. Twice. I’m not sure why I feel guilty, but as owner of an enterprise promoting fresh made-at-home meals, I hang my head in ceremonial shame. The truth is, I am no different than anyone else struggling to survive life, love, and t-ball.
I’m just like you.
I burn toast, stress over deadlines, forget to put the leftovers in the fridge, sometimes leave the dirty dishes until morning and every once in a while, I declare bedtime for my brood 15 minutes earlier so I may lay down as soon as humanly possible.
I’m just like you.
I laugh, cry, mourn, celebrate, fight, forgive, fear, enjoy, share, give, take, and create.
Just like you, I make more single base moves than home runs, have secrets and dreams; sometimes secret dreams. I want everything but might not know what to do with it.
I’m just like you.
I take it one day at a time finding small solutions to big issues and moving forward. In this, we are connected. Humans making our way.
Thank you for being just like me.
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And this is why I love you.
Why, I burned my toast just the other day, too.
(and we have a pizza place nearby that offers a whole wheat crust… so you can imagine what that leads to…)
Wouldn’t want you any other way, dear one…
If you were like me you would eat more salt… just sayin
Well, we can’t be twins.