extreme child

‘Our child dumped his piggy bank onto his bed. He’s having a Mardi Gras moment, hurling coins like beaded necklaces. ‘You can’t jump off the top bunk!,’ he tells our daughter.’

“I crack open a tired eyelid to see it’s not even 6 a.m. The rain beating down on our roof is drowned out by the billowing coming from our kids’ room. I lose my cool. It’s been under an hour of complete chaos. This is when my husband and I shift from relying on each other, to turning on each other.”

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