This morning, as I was working , I came across an article about a mom who hand makes a different Disney princess dress for her daughter EVERY TIME they go to a Disney Park. I’m not lying. The woman makes a dress for her daughter. By hand. For the many times they go to Disney.
2. I don’t remember my mom coming into the classroom for every single class party, field day, assembly, play, award ceremony or birthday celebration. Nope. I had my own phone line and, as far as I know, they never answered it or recorded the calls à la The FBI. They knew my friends and gave me the freedom to be out with them with no means of communication other than a quarter in my pocket to use at a pay phone. And, if I missed my curfew, there was no discussion or “reasoning”: I was grounded. And lost my car privileges .. They were my parents. Whom I had to respect, listen to and argue with. And roll my eyes at. And ask for money.