My husband is going to kill me. He’ll wait until I give birth, then he’s going to take the kid, and he’s going to kill me.

So this whole, “Ant killer, no ant killer” thing? Yeah, well. I didn’t buy any, use any, wear any, bathe in any. But my mom came over yesterday to spray what I thought was going to be the outside of the house for ants; instead she sprayed all over the kitchen. And it smells. And the husband is coming home today.

I had forgotten what it felt like to be a teenager, but now I remember. Always slightly guilty, always feeling culpable, but still pushing those stupid boundaries anyway.

Do you think there’s any way I can just point at my mom and say, “She did it?”

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