It was 6:25 am when 4 year old Brianna tiptoed into our bedroom. Dim morning light bounced off her damp cheeks. “Mommy,” she said, chin quivering, “I . . . don’t . . . feel ‘dood . . .”
Tag: Lisa Cole
So there I was being selfishly glum after learning that tonight’s tenth anniversary dinner reservations had to be cancelled . . .