My children have taken everything from me: my body, my original hair color, a full night’s sleep, extra, er, any money, the ability to finish a sentence, you get the picture. Stupid me, I just give more, and more and more. Wait, they have given me something–that nervous tic in my right eye. That’s gracious of them. The past month has been hell. I’ve been trying to sell my son’s car and it hasn’t been easy. Posting a used car ad is NOT a good way to meet new and interesting people. I’ve cleaned that darned thing so many times (and it still smells like BOY) I could, and have, just scream. I just found out that he broke a wheel bearing assembly and a tie rod on the car, possibly joy-riding into ditches or something? It’s a friggin’ economy car, honey, not a 4×4! So, after breaking the bank on the repairs so someone would buy it, and breaking my back with the labor of enduring endless weekends of ’showings’, I finally find a break. A woman, of a greater amount of sanity than the previous dozen before her, likes the car and agrees to buy it for her teenager. Whoopeee!!! I tell my son the good news, that after the repair money I’m deducting, he’ll have some funds to continue living in Paris. He can maybe eat a quiche, instead of ramen noodles (but pace yourself, kiddo!) I go to get the car title out of my filing cabinet…and it’s gone. I looked through the damned files eighty more times figuring that it’d magically apear, somehow. I searched in corners and cubbies of the house I didn’t even know I had (even the scary attic!) I find out I can get a replacement title but not for several business days, of course. I don’t sleep well because I’m so stressed that I just fouled up this sale. I looked in the mirror this morning and noticed a swath of white hairs I knew weren’t there just a week ago. The sacrifices continue.

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