There are so many things I could write about today. My friend’s niece who died suddenly from a brain tumor. My run-in with yet another pharmacist. And, of course, there’s always the puppy. But instead, I’m going to go with something really hard-hitting: The microwave. A hole in our kitchen. And our hearts. . ….
I'm Tammy -- wife, mommy, political junky, chronic complainer, godless liberal, and Hallmark-commercial-level sap. When I'm not busy popping pain pills and freaking out about Republicans taking us back to the 1950s, you'll probably find me plotting to run away from home and then crying an hour later because the kids won't be 8 and 10 forever. I'm a light greenie who buys organic and then eats a whole tube of Pringles after everyone goes to bed. My husband is a doctor who wants to build greenhouses and move me to some urban farm like Eva Gabor. And my son used to be autistic -- or so they said. Go figure.
