Lulu liked to ask questions.
I don’t know if she did it because she really truly wanted to know the answers or if she just wanted to drive me bat-shit crazy.
I tried my best to ignore the barrage of questions. But without much success. Lulu knew how to wear me down.
Finally, I would explode.
And then she would deliver the coup de grace—the finishing touch that made me feel guilty for the next six months.
Was this what being a mother was like, always feeling guilty? As it turns out… yes.
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