Tonight, after Lucy dumped juice on herself in the van, and after the van's tire blew out, while we were waiting in a shell station for triple A to come and help yank off the damn bolts on the tire, while Lucy was mad that her shirt was wet and that I did not have another one, and while she was incensed that we were stuck in Thousand Oaks and not at home with her nuk nuks, she said,
"You are the worst Mama."
And I thought to myself, "well, this won't be the last time that I hear that one."
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