“Why are you crying, mommy?” my 2-year-old called from her car seat as I blubbered on the phone about nothing specific to my husband.
“Sometimes mommies just feel sad,” I said, swabbing my snotty nose with my parka sleeve and pulling myself back together.
“Why?” Jane asked, cracking a smile.
I smiled back, but I couldn’t rightly answer. We were parked outside Trader Joe’s at 9:15 a.m. on a Mond…
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