How could this happen?

A six-month supply of dangerously cheap, single-ply toilet paper.

Here’s how it happened. It is late one Sunday afternoon and I’m mostly needing a nap. Instead, driven by my nurturing instincts, I sacrifice the last precious moments of my weekend to a large and filthy grocery store near our house. In a retail stupor I find what I consider to be an amazing deal on a suburban-sized multi-pack of toilet paper. I wrap both arms around the bulky mass and wrestle it from the shelf. Remembering to lift with my legs — I heave it into the cart. I finish the shopping and come home with my haul. A short while later the compromise in quality is discovered. (Mom!) As it turns out this toilet paper is painfully thin and needless to say not very effective. (How could I have known this? What am I? A gypsy?) To make matters worse, each roll is infinite. No matter how we try, we can’t seem to use it up. We invite friends and strangers in on the condition they use the bathroom. I tell everyone it’s better for the environment. And just be thankful we still have indoor plumbing in this economy. I remind them of our new household motto. One Roll at a Time.

A homesick, young innocent stranded at summer camp.

I really don’t know how this could have happened. A good mother sends her child to summer camp. Right? Only the best for my baby girl. I tackled the packing list with tender loving care. My little darling had the very best mosquito repellent and 50 spf sun block. She was equipped with a new water bottle, an expensive flashlight, (stolen from my husband’s glove box) twenty pairs of underwear, extra shoes, rain gear, a soft pillow and a warm sleeping bag. Have fun Pumpkin, I’ll see you in five days. Hug. Hug. Kiss. Kiss. By week’s end my bad mothering is revealed. Apparently I failed to write in all the possible names for “People other than yourself authorized to pick up your child from camp.” _______ (What?!) Well… you’re home safe now that’s all that matters. Right Sweetie? Did you remember to wear your sun block?

A flatulent episode in front of my daughter’s boyfriend.

Here’s what happened. It is a typical evening and I have just come home from work. My oldest daughter Zoe and her boyfriend Ben (both in high school) are doing homework in the dining room. They make me proud. Because I am such a good mother, I like to connect. So, I gingerly interrupt their homework for a brief hello. After about two minutes I can see they are beginning to lose patience. My time is running out. Suddenly, I recall a funny story from the day. This story is sure to make Zoe and Ben laugh and realize I am the world’s coolest mom. “Guys, wait! I have a good story I want to tell you!” I wave my arms and jump in the air for dramatic effect. Just as I land on my feet a loud blast of wind escapes my body. Oh dear. Next: a horrified look of disbelief from Ben. Screaming from Zoe. Near crying and more screaming from Zoe as I stand there and try to apologize. Continued loud protest from Zoe and a terrified, awkward look from Ben as I explain that these things happen when you get older … and OK. I’ll go now. I’m going. I’m leaving the room. You kids let me know if you need any help with your homework.