You know how, when you have been with someone long enough, you start to loose your own identity. Some say you even start to talk, dress, and think a like. It's starting to happen. This afternoon the doorbell rings and I run to the door. Hoping . Anticipating . AND ALSO PRAYING THAT THE DOORBELL DOESN'T SET OFF THE DOG AND WAKE UP MY NAPPING TODDLER. Whew, not a peep from the little one. When I see the small box sitting on the front porch, I immediately realize it was not my package, but my husband's. Something for his motorcycle. A new seat or something like that. I resentfully pick up his package and set in on the island. Feeling a bit pouty that it was not the package I was expecting. Let me rewind. Last week we traded in my car. If you have been a regular fixture in our lives over the past few years- your totally not surprised. I can't really speak to that, besides saying, in my defense I had owned the car...
The New Adventures of the Growing Abbott Family