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A Dark Day

I live in a constant state of privilege.  I'm (typically) aware of it.  I don't want for food or shelter.  I have an entire bookshelf dedicated to yarn.  I'm a middle class white person.  My kids get a free education from stellar teachers who give many, many shits about them.  No one in the family is dying of any horrible diseases (note to the universe:  that was not a gauntlet being thrown).  I can take a vacation every year. 

And yet. 

So we'll start with explaining that my husband left for a business trip today.  He'll be back by the weekend, it's not as long as some of his previous trips, so yay for that.  But it started out with our 7-year-old waking up this morning complaining of a sour stomach, which I didn't believe and forced him to get dressed because he was going to school right up until he made us believe it by very nearly puking on my husband's feet.  So my husband shoved a trash can in his direction, gave the kids hugs, gave me a wary side…

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