Remembering Motherhood’s Endgame

By: Laura Lee Arant

I gaze into a bowl.  It’s one of our everyday dishes, picked by me for the subtle floral pattern embossed in the rim. But now, I see Honey Bunches of Oats residue- left to harden by one of three daughters.  The cereal’s dry, crusty remains, now hard as the dish itself-waiting for me to do the sand blasting. Such is the life of a mom. If your kids never forget to clean their own dishes, please don’t speak to me, I concede that you are a better mom than me, okay? This is my reality.


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