There’s a little anecdote about mothers that’s been going around the internet for some time, and it pops up in many variations. It goes something like this: When I was a child, my mother would always run back into the house when we were getting ready to leave for vacation. Everyone else was in the car, but she’d always go back and spend such a long time. I never could figure out what she was doing. Then, I became a mother and I realized what she was doing. Everything. She was...
















