At Our House, You Don’t Have to Hide Your Brussels Sprouts in Your Napkin. Hell–That’s Funny–Like You’d Be Given a Napkin at Our House

Here are my dominant memories of first grade: 1) I got chicken pox and stayed home from school for a week. It got a little long, that week of lolling around, scratching myself, but then my mom set a Mason jar of buttons next to me (which her mom had collected for decades), and suddenly… Continue reading At Our House, You Don’t Have to Hide Your Brussels Sprouts in Your Napkin. Hell–That’s Funny–Like You’d Be Given a Napkin at Our House