Kidlet #1 ran out the front door after her uncles. She moved with all the enthusiasm of a fat kid hauling ass after an ice cream truck. Being the all-knowing mama I was (did my sarcasm come through there?), I took off after her. As I’d bet, she hadn’t bothered to put on shoes.
“Get inside now,” I said, “and get some shoes on.”
Kidlet #1 huffed but she still ran toward the house. And me. But when she reached me, she punched her hands onto her hips.
“But Mama,” she said, heavy on the attitude, “YOU’RE not wearing any shoes.”
I looked down at my feet. Well, damn!
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