“Thank you for making this dinner! But I think I like Dad’s spaghetti better.”
It was so close to being a compliment. And given what I know about my cooking ability, I’ll take it. My five-year-old was right. I put forth a good effort, but his dad is the better cook.
Mothering can feel like this at times. Like you are just close enough to getting it, only to feel like you just aren’t making the cut. Not by a long shot….

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