On People.
Target.
Dear Parents of Sixteen Year Old Daughters,
I met your girls in the ladies room at Target this weekend.
It was SO LOUD when I burst through the door mid-teen conversation.
But don’t worry, they immediately made eye contact, said SORRY, and lowered their excited voices for a polite nanosecond.
Small Things.
It’s the Small Things, Midlifers.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s Big Things, too. But it’s the Small Things that comprise the fabric of the most intimate relationships that blanket our lives.
Like how he brings me coffee every.single.morning.
Stay Up.
Dear Parents of Sixteen Year Old Daughters,
I met your girls in the ladies room at Target this weekend.
It was SO LOUD when I burst through the door mid-teen conversation.
But don’t worry, they immediately made eye contact, said SORRY, and lowered their excited voices for a polite nanosecond.
Squad.
This is dedicated to My Squad
You know who you are.
We didn’t grow up together. We look different. You have kids older than me and none at all.
I am your child.
Some of us are white and some are black. We are different ages, generations even, formed by a multitude of life experiences.
We sound so different.
