He was only a cat. Right? Just a cat. Not like a dog with all its unconditional love, cuddly coat, and endless loyalty. Or an actual person, God forbid. Just a cat.
I know we are all supposed to be offering odes to our college-bound children. I know, as we see the “time to move out!” pile grow taller, we are supposed to fully lean into our feelings of sadness and despair and question how, exactly, we will move on with an empty bed in our homes. It’s just that I am having other, more happy feelings, as well.
I don’t mean to brag, but I did finally learn to cook. When I first moved in with my instant family, I would look at whichever box I pulled out of the pantry and think, “Okay, serving size, 4oz…so…what, make four of those?”
This is why I cringe when people look at me with a suspicious eye roll when they hear I am a stepmom. Only a stepmom. It must be so easy to only be a stepmom. Oh yes. Bonbons and fancy wines. What I want to say is, “You think you have emotional fallout? Try life as a stepmom. So easy.”
Between Zack getting his driver’s license, a lifeguard certification, a real summer job.... WHY IS THIS CHILD TESTING ME??