A Taste of My Own Medicine
An actual conversation that occurred in my minivan a few days ago:
“Honey, why are your dirty socks still in the car? I asked you yesterday to take them inside,” I asked my daughter (in my mother tone) on our way to eat dinner at a friend’s house.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll take care of them.” [PAUSE.]
“But why is your bottle of stool softeners still on the floor of the van? I asked you yesterday to take them inside,” she asked in the same tone, pointing to the bottle that had rolled out of my purse.
We laughed and laughed. And laughed some more.
But you’re not allowed to laugh…all I can say is Africa is tough on a girl’s constitution.
