With Jordan in her infant carrier as I was standing on the porch of my aunt’s house ringing the doorbell, one of my crazy head voices told me Jordan was going to die when she was 16. Because I am no more sane than any of my crazy head voices, I spent the next…
read more »
Some of their complaints have merit, some don’t. Our little family is like the customer service counter at Walmart: we’ll take anything back and will find a way to write it off. And, like Walmart customer service, our family is run by a middle-aged black lady who likes her job well enough, but probably didn’t…
read more »