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Desperation is the part of parenthood that everyone likes to keep quiet about. But I have found that desperation is the foundation of all parenting styles. I’m pretty sure that the word “parenting” has its roots in Latin, meaning “make it up as you go along.” It’s true, because most great parenting decisions are made while parents are just mere seconds away from completely losing their minds.
For example: studies show that most households with a pet hamster or gerbil admit that the new family rodent was obtained while standing in the middle of the pet store with one or more children screaming hysterically.
We have all seen these parents—the children are sobbing and the parents are turning a deeper shade of crimson as the wailing reaches a crescendo. So they give in and buy the darn hamster. And as it turns out, the kids love the silly rodent and it ends up teaching them responsibility. Those kids, well, they grew up to be a doctor and a teacher because that hamster taught them the value of hard work as well how rewarding nurturing a living creature can be.
The parents end up looking like geniuses for having the foresight to buy their children a pet to teach those valuable life lessons. But we all know the truth…it was their complete and utter desperation that led them to the pet store that day.
But we will keep their secret.
The setting is Anytown, USA, among barking dogs, picket fences, and eclectic neighbors. You don't have to be crazy to live here, but it helps!
Tales from Suburbia will make you laugh, warm your heart, and let you know you're not alone. Mothers (and fathers) will recognize themselves, their children, and the absurd situations that family life brings to us all.
Enjoy an excerpt:
I seldom fall victim to Pinterest, but on this rare occasion, I looked at pictures of tea parties for little girls. The cuteness was almost overwhelming. My daughter loved the idea, which only fueled my enthusiasm. Even my husband was not immune to the excitement and he quickly joined in with the planning.
“How about a chocolate fountain?” he asked with a smile.
Chocolate flowing from an exquisite fountain sitting in the center of a beautifully decorated table. What could possibly go wrong with that, I thought.
“That’s a great idea, honey!” I exclaimed and began a painstaking search of Amazon for the perfect chocolate-oozing birthday party accessory.
What I envisioned as six little girls daintily dipping strawberries and chunks of pound cake into flowing chocolate ended up being the worst idea ever conceived. The chocolate fountain itself turned out to be a poorly-constructed, steel and plastic contraption spewing chocolate out of tiered orifices while making a grinding noise that sounded a lot like a sixteen-year-old learning to drive a stick shift.
A deranged group of six-year-olds hovered around the fountain clutching sharpened sticks in their hands ready to impale fruits, marshmallows and my husband’s inconveniently placed hand. But the worst was the double dipping. I watched as kid after kid shoved a strawberry into the chocolate, took a small bite, then thrust the bacteria-infested berry back into the chocolate. I was certain that a new outbreak of dysentery was about to sweep through our neighborhood because of this wretched chocolate fountain. I could almost hear the accusatory whispers, “Isn’t that the lady who gave all the kids on Tawny Drive diarrhea for a month? Yes, if she offers you chocolate, run away.”
About the Author: In kindergarten, I was asked what I wanted to do when I grew up. My answer was a neatly written sentence: “I want to write a book about a story.”
The joy I find in writing has never waned. I find humor in all that I see and live my life secure in the knowledge that everything is funny. And now after an amazing ten years of teaching, I find myself wife to the world’s best doctor, mother to the sweetest daughter, caretaker to one wonder mutt and countless ill-fated goldfish and ready to write again. Our residence is Anytown, USA, among barking dogs, picket fences, and eclectic neighbors and these are my stories.
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