What," I Said, "is That A Crime

Pretend To Be A Delinquent?" I Asked Clarifying. "you Can Do It," Dave Advised Me. "just Don't Smile, And Try To Look Like You're Considering Stealing Something.

I Honestly Don't Have Many Creative Outlets. I'm Not Crafty - Although Motherhood Has Forced Me To Try To Be - And I Can Only Draw Trees, Beaches, And Clouds. I'm A So-so Cook Except For Deviled Eggs. Writing Has Always Been The One Thing I Feel That I Am Pretty Good At Doing. But It's Enough, Thank Goodness.

It's Hard To Be Nice When The Rest Of The World Is So Mean.

Everyone Laughed, And Just Like That, The Conversation Shifted, Jumping To Another Topic. It Was Fast And Furious, The Talking, The Emotions, The Back-and-forth And Forth-and-back. I Realized That If I Tried To Focus On It Too Much, I Got Overwhelmed. So I Just Decided To Relax Into It, Bumpy And Crazy As It Might Be, And Try For Once To Just Go Along For The Ride.

It Was Like Discovering That Some Part Of You Wasn't Yours At All. And It Made Me Wonder What Else I Couldn't Claim.