Maybe I should have been named “Sybil.” According to my son, I am something of a collective. He now refers to me as “my family,” pronounced “famiwee” of course. When I pick him up from school he hollers “hey my famiwee!” When he’s looking for me at home, he runs through the house shouting “where is my famiwee?”
I wish there were more than one of me. Imagine all the stuff I could get done. One of me could sit at the office while another took a nap while another mopped the kitchen floor while another one played Pokemon Go while another one binge-watched Gilmore Girls and drank wine straight from the box.
Have a good weekend, y’all. Let’s hope the world gives the crazy a rest as well.