When you buy your sweet baby girl her first giant pink bouncy ball at Walmart and your super helpful son throws it into the back of the van and it bounces off the seat, over his head, out of the van, and into the parking lot, and you go chase it because it’s what you must do and the wind is blowing and this giant bouncing thing keeps rolling right out of reach whenever you bend down to grab it and the whole thing looks like a Groucho Marx joke only in color…

And you think, I can’t believe I paid $2.50 for this.

Filed under: being me again

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