All posts tagged: #harrypotter

Same Home Different House

“Mom, are you mad?” She handed me another stack of dirty plates. “I just don’t agree, hon. I don’t think it’s true.” I took the plates and glanced up quickly to her earnest eyes. “Mom, it’s who I am. Don’t you see it? It totally makes sense.” She picked up a handful of  dirty silverware. Of course I saw it. In the clothes she wore, the books she read, the memes she laughed at. Her identity had been uncoiling in front of us for months. It scared me. “Honey, you’re in 6th grade! I think it’s, like, a phase, you know? I don’t think you have to make a declaration for your whole life right now.” I scrubbed a platter with anxious vigor. “Mom. Don’t tell me I’m going to outgrow it. This is who I am.” She stopped clearing the table and looked at me. “Honey, please. It can’t be true. Why would anyone choose that for themselves?” I looked down at the sink. “Mom, I didn’t choose it. It’s how I’m made.” I turned off the …

Fighters

I hate The Walking Dead. Many very smart, sensitive, and spiritual people love the show, like my husband, but not me. It’s not the haunted house make-up or the constant gargle of zombies that bother me. It’s that in order to survive, you have to kill. I hate it. We now live 15 minutes from where the series is filmed, so I’m trying to watch this season. I’m also trying to win Best Wife Ever. I ask about 35 questions per episode, but Chris still invites me to join him every freaking time. A couple of weeks ago I groaned, “I cannot take it. If the zombies come, honey, just kill me. I wouldn’t want to live like this.” Chris set his jaw, clenched his fist, and looked at me as if I just confessed an affair. He said, “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. We are fighters. We are survivors.” We told the kids about the attacks in Paris on Friday night at dinner. They asked if it was ISIS. I reluctantly told them …