Artist & Writer, San Francisco Bay Area

Baby, Not Guilty; Mother, Guilty

Alright, after three weeks, I thought for sure the disappearance of my cell phone was linked to my small child. Certainly it had to do with his love for rifling thru my purse coupled with his tendency to throw things into the magic trash can. (Wave your hand over the little light, and the top slowly comes up.) (Much too enticing for my little guy.) (Why did I get it?) Anyway, for sure it wasn’t my fault. I’d hoped. So… um… I was driving on a bright sunny street today, and my eyes hurt, and I wanted my sunglasses. I thought, come to think of it, I hadn’t seen my sunglasses since I’d last seen my cell phone. A good place for sunglasses in the car? Hmm. The glove box. Popped it open- there was my cell phone. I was excited & bummed at the same time. Sure it would be sorta nice to make a phone call when I’m away from home. But I’d have to admit to everyone that I made my baby boy my scapegoat. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time!

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