This morning, she arose early, went downstairs to pack lunches, and was surprised by the youngest gingerbread boy padding downstairs in his red jammies, gently holding a creation of paper, glue, and glitter that has been languishing in his room for days. He held it out to her with such pride and such love. "Happy Valentine's day, Mommy! I made this for you!" What sweeter gift is there than a piece of newsprint, heavy with the contents of six vials of multicolored glitter, each piece reflecting facets of unimaginable love.
I’m eating Doritos right at this very minute because last week, my Austrian friend took me shopping. We went to a place called The Snack Shop that sells all kinds of American junk food. I succumbed, but I hadn’t broken into them until today, probably because there’s so much amazing regular food that who needs junk food? So, yes, I ate Doritos today, but I also listened to parts of Mozart’s The Magic Flute. That must cancel out the Doritos, right? Better yet, I got a library card! Which has absolutely nothing to do with either Doritos or Mozart, but it makes me happy. Anyway, since the last time I wrote, I have attended a Back to School Night and met all the teachers and got all the forms and signed all the paperwork. I took the gingerbread boy to Prague last weekend solo because the Gingerbread Man was presenting at a conference in New York. I navigated Prague—there, around, and back. Are you impressed? I am. Especially because my data didn’t work while we were there. And t
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