Exhausted, I gulp down my third cup of coffee, cold and bitter from sitting on the counter. My son cries in frustration behind me, for the fifteenth time this morning, though I can’t figure out why. I put my coffee cup down, and grab my son’s raisins from the fridge. His crying ceases, and I exhale. Raisins. This is going to be a long day.
*Every day, throughout the month of August, I will be participating in a fun writing experiment, known as Small Stones, for #AwakeAugust. To learn more, or for more examples of Small Stones, you can click here.
Jan
