We’re all there at one point or another. The dreaded class project. It comes in many forms—papier-mâché, glitter-covered, or construction paper monstrosities. In this particular case, it was a bona fide woodworking assignment.
We never want our kids to be those kids, do we? The ones who walk in on science fair day and have something strung together and mounted with clay, only to pit themselves against the live tornado in a bowl or glow-in-the-dark bouncy balls. Bless their hearts. We just want them to have a killer project without our dying in the process. Without its turning into an all-nighter and our moonlighting as fourth-graders desperately trying to make sure Emily gets an A while simultaneously impressing the pants off Jill and her friends. That Jill.
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The crazy thing about cancer, is that it doesn't stop with just one person. It moves around and infiltrates until it bumps and bruises everyone around you. But the beautiful thing is, you're rarely alone. Whether it's friends, family, strangers, or some combination, there are people fighting alongside you.
For us, it was a hot day as summer transitioned to the excitement of fall. And then the world crashed. |
AuthorWriting is really my outlet, so you'll mostly see my prose on here. But William might occasionally make a guest appearance. Archives
May 2021
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